The Assassin and the Clown
by Himitsu no Tokumei
Summary: AU DaiKen. Ken Ichijouji was from a family of assassins. The police took him in at age nine, when his family was caught and killed. Six years of counciling and three of school had no effect on him. Enter Daisuke. Can he break through Ken's cold exterior?
1. Prologue: The Assassin in Chains

This is going to be a Daiken fic later. That part will take a bit to get to though. I have quite a bit planned for this one, but I have yet to decide on a specific ending point.

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

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_**Prologue: The Assassin in Chain**_

_He felt the cold steel on his wrists, contrasting the warm liquid running down his arms. Deep blue hair covered cold, violet eyes. No emotion showed in those purple orbs, despite the fact he was hanging a foot off the ground, held by only his sore, bleeding wrists._

_The door to his cell opened, and several people in uniforms came in. Police. He was told they were silently the enemy. If found by one, you kill them. Not out of malice. Not out of hate. But because you had to. That was why he ate. Because he had to. That was the reason he breathed and slept, and why he remained silent despite the pain shooting through him and the dizziness threatening to take him. It was the reason he would kill._

_Because he had to._

_It was his job. When he grew up he would be an assassin, just like the rest of his family. He had seen death enough times to ignore it. He'd been tortured enough times to remain silent, to not fear dying himself. He didn't know, but maybe he beckoned it. It would mean an end to this pain._

_Yet he still lived. Because he had to?_

_To him, it had been just another day, simply another interrogation session. It would have been over soon, then they'd all sit down and eat dinner, his never-fully-healed cuts throbbing against the bandages, before heading to the shooting range. But not today. She said it would change, as she undid his shackles. She said he hadn't done anything wrong. She said they'd fix him._

_Ken Ichijouji showed no emotion._

_The boy of nine years looked to the hand on his shoulder with cold, scowling eyes. He felt the bandages tightening around his wrists as the paramedics stuck a needle in his arm. Apparently he was undernourished._

_Ken Ichijouji had never noticed._

_He was led through his house, passing by his family, only to find he and his older brother were the only ones left alive. He was screaming; they had always said he had failed. You weren't supposed to cry over dead family members. Everyone died. You killed some of those who died. You might be killed by someone else._

_The police kept telling him they'd fix him._

_Ken Ichijouji doubted it._

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I already have chapter one written up, but will post it up in a week or two, so I can try and stay ahead of this one.


	2. Chapter 1: Routine

For those of you also reading my Taito fic, the chapters for this one will be shorter (obviously). I will (most likely) be updating it at the same time or within a day of my other one.

Something I do realize, I use the words 'always,' 'routine,' and 'surprising/surprised' a lot in this chapter. If that bugs you (cause it sure bugs me) I'm sorry.

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

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**Chapter 1: Routine**

At five the alarm would go off, an insistent ringing that would refuse to quit if left to its own devices. So, lazily, the blue-haired boy would roll over and slam a hand onto the snooze, and wait for it to go off again at five-o-nine. This time he wouldn't hit snooze, though, and instead turn the thing off and back on, resetting it for the next morning, and sit on the edge of his bed until his eyes adjusted to the gloom of his cell. Yes, Ken Ichijouji lived in the prison. Voluntarily. He wasn't in jail, just one of the cells had been converted to act as his bedroom.

By five-thirty, the teen (he's fifteen now) would be up and dressed. Slowly opening the barred door so as to not wake those actually locked in the building of concrete and steel, Ken would proceed to the station joined to the jail. The guard, always the same guy, a man in his forties, would wave him through. Always with a hello the boy would not return.

The kitchen was the first place he went to. He'd make coffee for the guard, not out of caring, but because he had to. Or at least, felt he had to. It had always been his and his brother's duty to make the meals for their parents, so when the guard asked Ken one day to fetch him some coffee, Ken did. And did so every day since then. It was just one more thing to him. Just one more thing.

After delivering the scalding liquid (and not even indicating he registered the 'thank you') Ken would be back in the kitchen making breakfast. Depending on what there was, it would be eggs, hash browns, and sausage, French toast, pancakes, or some other breakfast-type meal. And he always cooked for three.

Two officers always showed up at six. One was the woman who had taken him out of the chains six years before, and the other was a male. He had taken care of the bills to raise Ken since he got there. Takashi, was his name. He always came in telling Yuma (her real name in Yamura, but Takashi always mixed her name up to Yumara so Yuma stuck) good morning. Then they all would sit down and try to coerce a conversation out of the violet-eyed teen.

It never worked. That was the routine for weekdays. Get up and get ready for school. After three years of counseling with no results, they had tried sending the stubborn child to school. Still, it did nothing to change his cold demeanor. In fact, he was avoided by the other students, partially because of the constant scowl plastered on his face.

The walk to school was thirty-seven minutes long, and forty-three back because of the hills. Ken always walked by the park, but never looked at it. He would see others riding the bus, but he never got on. Not even when it rained. Nor did he run.

He would always get to school at six-fifty and make his way to his locker for the books he needed but hadn't brought home. The other kids had learned to watch the clock, so at six-fifty that hallway was always bare near his locker. Mechanically opening it, he would retrieve his books and head to class ten minutes early. Each semester the classes were different, but the routine was the same. Go to class and listen to the teacher, pick up on student conversations, and wait for the bell to dismiss you to the next hour of meaningless lectures and work. Things got louder as the day dragged on and morning grogginess wore off, and lunch approached.

The bell releasing fifth period was always accompanied by shouts, cheers, and hollers. Some people sat at a different table everyday; others had 'reserved spots.' Ken had a 'reserved table.' It was positioned farthest from the entrance, nestled back into a little corner. At first the tables near his would also be left empty, but after about a month it was merely that no one sat with him. He would finish his lunch and then work on homework until the bell rang. Takashi used to call, always at twelve, to make sure he didn't have another episode, but that stopped the year before. No one tried to pick a fight with him anymore, meaning it had been a while since someone got hurt.

After lunch was two more hours of lessons. School was released at two and Ken would gather what books he need and start the forty-three minute walks home. If you would call a police station home. Between homework, making dinner, and cleaning, Ken could preoccupy himself until he went to bed at ten. Just to restart the whole routine at five the next morning.

Weekends had a different routine. He woke up later and instead of walking to school he would be driven to counseling. He was normally done with all his homework, so the hours after counseling were spent thinking or cleaning. Those two days were the hardest for him. They were difficult to predict, and he could feel them eating away at his discipline.

But he never broke the routine.

He should have known, then, that day would be different.

That day was Friday. That day he woke up at four-thirty.

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It was strange. He always found himself tired at five in the morning when his alarm went off, yet he was lying awake without a hint of sleepiness. The clock flashed four-thirty-three, three minutes after he mysteriously awoke. Ken didn't dream, so that couldn't be the reason for this unusual break in routine. The blue-haired boy seriously did not know why he woke. No noise rattle through the jail, and the sun would not rise for another two hours. He tried to just lie in bed, but found himself abnormally restless and jumped into the daily routine early.

_Friday,_ he thought, pulling his pants on and buttoning them. _The end of the weekday routine. But this isn't routine. Four-fifty… I'm still half an hour ahead of routine._ Sitting on his bed, Ken placed his head in his hands. What else was he supposed to do for half an hour?

He kept guiltily glancing up, as if expecting something. Yet nothing came, no _one_ came. He broke the routine, yet nothing changed.

It may not seem like much, but this small event had probably the most substantial effect on out tormented protagonist. Ken was raised on routine, and a break in it was punished. Yet as he stood from his bed and opened the cell door, no whip came down on his back. As he through the door and four-fifty-nine and the guard said hello, no shackles found his wrists. He had broken the routine and no one cared. It planted a doubt in his discipline. A small one, like a tiny crack in a goliath statue. But a tiny crack can become a large one. All you need is a wedge and a hammer. Now all that was needed was to find one before he subconsciously mended the crack.

Takashi was shocked to see breakfast was already set on the table when he came in. "I woke up early," Ken said, surprising himself as well as the two police officers.

It only took a second for the words to register in Takashi—damn how little that boy spoke, his voice bordered on foreign—and come up with a reply. "Bad dream?" An answer was not expected, but was still disappointing when one was not offered.

The rest of breakfast was silent, all three analyzing the conversation between Takashi and Ken (and, yes, two lines _is_ conversation for Ken). After finishing his meal, Ken took his bag and faced one more surprise before he left. "Have fun at school," Takashi said, as he always did. And, for some reason unknown to him, Ken stopped, and nodded. He acknowledged the words before he stepped out into the cold, noisy street. November was well underway and the chill breeze nipped his nose. His thought were inward, though, on the events at the station. More breaks in routine. Why had he acted like that? If he kept up thinking like that, he might just have enough homework to occupy his weekend.

* * *

Everyone was surprised to see the bluenette run into the classroom as the second bell rang. He was never late, yet ha had just barely beat the bell. Ken silently cursed himself for his slip up. His mind had been too distracted by the morning that he had slowed dangerously, almost not making it to class on time. Determined not to break routine anymore, he shoved those thoughts out of him mind.

Class continued as usual. He did catch bits of conversation about his tardiness, but it was always accompanied by curiosity, not anger. Did routine really mean so little to them!?

"Daisuke, you're late," the teacher calmly said to the brunette trying to slink in while her back was turned. "Go take your seat." Sighing, the teen walked over and sat next to Shion, a boy with bleached (and I mean BLEACHED) blonde hair.

"Hey Daisuke the Clown," he greeted, one of the few who actually called him that. Yes, the cinnamon-haired teen was the class clown (or school clown…) but most just called him Daisuke. "You missed something cool!" he whispered excitedly. "'If Looks Could Kill' Ken was almost late to class." Okay, Shion gave everyone titles, no one else would dare call Ken that.

"Seriously!?" Daisuke asked.

"Yeah!"

Ken watched them curiously. Daisuke looked like your average boy; average height, red-brown hair that naturally (or so he claimed) spiked, not stupid, but not overly intelligent either. But he was the one thing that confused the disciplined boy. Daisuke would do something foolish to just plain stupid just so others would laugh at him. This time he came in four minutes late with a piece of half-eaten toast in his mouth.

Knowing he'd only get pushed farther from the daily routine if he listened, Ken pushed their conversation away, concentrating again on his work. _Daisuke could really use some discipline,_ was his last thought on the matter.

"Hey, Daisuke the Clown, I have a good idea," Shion said, grinning in a way that rivaled the Clown himself.

"Sure, what is it?" Daisuke asked, intrigued.

"Truth or dare?" he asked, already knowing which his 'friend' would choose.

"Hmmmm… Dare," the brunette replied, knowing Shion already had a task for him.

"I dare you to spend a week with If Looks Could Kill Ken."

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Everyone stared at the spiky-headed boy in awe. He was purposefully walking to the back corner of the cafeteria, Ken's corner. A big smile plastered on his face, he sat his tray down and boldly asked, "Is this seat taken?"

Ken's glare took him aback, wiping the smile from his face temporarily before it was back and he sat down, drawing another glare from the bluenette. "Well, it wasn't a no," he said, extending his hand towards the other male. "We have not been properly introduced. I am Daisuke Motomiya." By this time, every eye (including kitchen staff and teachers) was watching the two. Many expected Ken to pull a knife on the obnoxious boy, but instead he simply ignored him, going back to his own food, a meal he had prepared (as always) before he left home.

Daisuke stuck out his lower lip in a pout, eyes going big to try and guilt Ken. The quiet, violet-eyed teen still ignored him. "Keeeen," Daisuke whined, accentuating it with a poke. Still no reaction. "Ken! Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken. Ken." Each 'Ken' was accompanied by another poke.

"What do you want!?" Ken yelled, anger leaking into his words.

Daisuke's face lit up, a ridiculous grin adorning his features. "Yay! I got an emotion out of him!" Daisuke cheered loudly, surprising everyone near him, especially Ken. He didn't understand this carefree boy.

_Why is he smiling at me?_ Ken wondered.

Somewhere, a wedge was placed into a small crack, a hammer weakly, but persistently, tap-tapping on it.

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First chapter done! I'm kinda sad about it's length, but that can't be helped. Only so much one can do when they know where they want to stop it without putting in so much detail it's boring. I do have the next chapter written up (and am working on the third), but you'll have to wait for it. I'm just mean that way. And then if I hit writers block I have an extra couple weeks to get out of it.


	3. Chapter 2: The Question

Chapter 2 is finally up! With my additional smart comments that I know you all love!

I have decided to _try_ and make every other Thursday my upload day for all my fanfictions, so it will be two weeks until the next chapter unless I get _really_ far ahead, which I doubt with me writing 3 fanfictions at once...

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

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**Chapter 2: The Question**

Annoyance was not familiar to the bluenette. The initial anger had ebbed away into confusion and annoyance. Daisuke continued to pester the violet-eyed teen with conversation throughout the entire lunch period. Ken, of course, refused to answer, but that did not stop the other boy from continuing. About halfway through the seemingly excruciatingly longer-than-normal half hour, Ken gave up glaring and concentrated solely on his food… until the brunette in the seat next to him resorted to poking to regain is attention. Without any other option, Ken looked back at the hyperactive teen. He was rambling on again.

"…cer is such a great sport and I'm really good at it, you know?" he asked. "But soccer isn't the only sport and just because I like it doesn't mean you do. Do you play sports, Ken? What sports do you like?" The brown-eyed boy looked expectantly at his companion.

Ken was confused again. "Like?" he asked, again without thinking. The word rolled awkwardly off his tongue.

"Yeah, like, enjoy," Daisuke chided, happy to get some sign of recognition. "You have to have something you do for fun."

The bell saved him from answering, sending him to his next class without the confusing boy. Sitting in his seat, he tried to concentrate on the teacher's lecture. _Like, huh?_ he asked himself. He knew what it meant, he had heard other students say it. But it did not apply to him. If it had, he'd have been taught it. He was not meant to enjoy life, but to so what he had to. Fun did not fit in. He had no answer for Daisuke.

_Why am I still thinking about this!?_ he inwardly glared. _This subject is of no importance._ Shoving the thoughts away, Ken attacked his homework with agitation. A single day seemed to be breaking his discipline.

He had calmed down (though some people still cautiously observed him) and completed half of the assignment by the time the bell rang. The bluenette nearly groaned, he had seventh period with the spiky-haired idiot, and he doubted the fiend would leave him be.

Sluggishly standing, the teenager gathered him papers and supplies and left the emptying room. As usual, the other students avoided him, geeks and jocks alike, more than willing to mix with their opposites than be near him. Once he passed they moved back to their own circles, jocks shoving geeks, and the latter confusing the former with words they would never be able to understand, even with a dictionary's help. The space around his locker was void as usual. His closest lockermates had either arrived early or would wait for him to leave. No one would approach him. Of course, no one knew the truth of his past. His scowls kept most people away, but, at first, a few had approached him. Then the bully came at him when he had been going to school for only three months. That opponent was measurably bigger and stronger than the scrawny twelve-year-old, yet Ken still managed to break his arm and knock him unconscious. Without so much as a scratch on himself. Since then, no one would near him.

A movement to his left caught his eye, and he turned to be greeted by a smiling face. Well, _almost_ no one came near him. His confusion must have been visible on his face, for Daisuke asked, "Is something wrong, Ken?"

The addressed replaced his face with a mask and turned back to his locker. "Aww. You don't have to be that way," the brunette whined.

Ken looked sidelong at his sudden, unwanted companion, closing his locker door. "What do you want?" he callously asked, hoping to rid himself of this nuisance.

The hurt left his features as his eyes brightened. "I want to hang out with you," Daisuke replied, a smile touching his lips. Not his normal, goofy, overly-big, obnoxious grin, but a calm, serene, sincere smile. The goggle-wearing boy wanted to make the cold, reclusive one talk and show emotion. After seeing the teenager always so neutral and, well… dead, the small emotion that had splayed across his face during lunch was invigorating, even if it was anger. (Of course, Daisuke did not use the word 'invigorating' in his thoughts, he didn't even know what the word meant.)

Ken huffed. "That's called 'annoyance,'" Daisuke explained as if Ken was a little kid. The boy's violet eyes shot Daisuke a quick glare before he headed towards class, away from the spiky-haired soccer player. "And I will stay by you until you're happy I'm here," he continued, hurrying to catch up.

For once, Daisuke Motomiya made it to class on time. It's not that he was slow, merely that he didn't hurry. Ken, on the other hand, was never late. So as Daisuke persistently stuck to the blue-haired teenager, he made it to class before the bell rang. "You know, you still haven't answered my question from lunch," he continued to ramble, sitting in the empty seat to Ken's right. "What do you do for fun?"

Daisuke was watching Ken expectantly when the other boy faced him. "Do you ever run out of breath?" the question was asked almost monotonously.

"Ah! You know, my mom has asked me that same question," the athlete answered. "As well as my sister, and Shion, and Old Man Whether who lives next door, and Mrs. Miramatts who owns one-hundred cats, and Alicia from homeroom, and my fifth period teacher, and that fortune teller from the amusement park last year, and Ms. Ra-"

"Motomiya, class has started," the teacher interrupted. "Ichijouji, don't encourage him," he added, looking at said boy. He cringed at the glare directed his way and took a step back. "Right… Class, pull out last night's homework so we can go over it."

"Sheesh, Mr. Gurschnoft is an ass. I'm glad he's only subbing one more day," Daisuke confided in his 'friend,' just under the din of rustling paper. The bluenette scowled disapprovingly up at the pest distracting him from his current task. "I mean, you didn't do anything and he goes off on you like that."

Temporarily abandoning his own work, Ken sat up and faced Daisuke. "Get out your work," he said coolly.

"Didn't do it," the brunette smiled.

Ken just sighed, bending back down to his bag at his feet. Daisuke leaned over out of his seat and looked down over Ken's head. "Can I copy yours?" he asked.

The reclusive teen shot up, the back of his head solidly connecting with the other male's chin. All eyes turned to the two boys, one of which most would not have chanced a glance at. His face was set in its natural scowl, while his adversary rubbed his chin, smiling (and blushing) sheepishly. "Sorry," the blushing boy said.

The substitute teacher had seen enough. Face red with rage, he stood and stalked over to the two teens. He sputtered for several seconds, sending spittle onto Ken's face. The teen wiped away the revolting (or it would have been if he felt) liquid in a manner that bordered on arrogant. The action angered the substitute farther. "Motomiya, Ichijouji, hall! Now!" Mr. Gurschnoft yelled. Ken's glare still affected him, but he didn't back down this time. "Now! Out! And stay there until the bell rings!"

The purple-eyed boy stood, giving only the slightest bow before heading to the door. Daisuke was about to protest, but one look at the teacher's visage caught his sentence before he spoke. Wordlessly, the cinnamon-haired boy followed the other male. Red eyes snapped to the other student's faces. "No more interruptions, right?" he snapped. No one dared answer.

The two boys sat against the pale, cream wall. In his eyes, Ken looked uncharacteristically bored or extremely deep in thought. In truth, Ken wasn't thinking of anything. (Besides weapons) Patience was an assassin's only ally. As such, Ken could handle simply sitting and waiting. The hyperactive soccer player who had sat annoying close to him could not.

"Ken…" Daisuke mumbled. When he didn't get a reply, he continued, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble. It's just that you don't talk much so I have to make up for it because I really want to be your friend because you always look so lonely sitting by yourself in your corner with everyone avoiding you because you are different than them and I admit kinda scary because you always glare." A sharp intake of breath restocked his lungs with oxygen. "Are you lonely?"

Amethyst orbs slowly came up to rest on burgundy ones. _Am I lonely?_ his mind replayed. Another word he didn't understand. And, since he didn't understand it, it couldn't be true. "No," he said in a dull tone. Again, the boy smiled. At him.

"Are you upset?" Daisuke pushed on since he actually got a reply the previous time.

"No," the bluenette answered. He knew what upset meant. He was always taught to never get upset, and he never forgot his lessons.

"You coulda fooled me," the athlete stated. "You always look as if you may spring at a person with a knife any second. Do you mean to do that?" Ken removed his gaze from his unwanted companion and stared instead at the wall opposite him. For a second Daisuke believed the introverted male was going to open up, but after a minute he realized Ken had gone back to ignoring him.

Narrowing his eyes at the other teenager, Daisuke leaned back against the wall. He noticed that ken's only movement was the slight rise and fall of his chest and the occasional blink of his eyes. Opening his mouth, Daisuke asked, "When is class over?"

_This is going to be a long seventh period…_

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"No," came the calm reply.

"Why can't I ride the bus with you?" Daisuke asked. He had already held Ken up several minutes, mostly with pointless chatter, but he was genuinely curious. The boy just could not figure out what type of environment Ken had been raised in that he would turn out like he was. So, to settle his curiosity, he asked if he could come over.

"I don't ride the bus," Ken stated, starting to walk away.

"So you live nearby?" the brunette prompted.

"No," was the simple reply, stopping his tailer momentarily.

"So you're saying you walk when you don't live close?" Daisuke asked, running to catch up.

"Go home," Ken said, facing the annoyance. "You cannot come over."

The soccer player stopped, looking down to his feet. "Oh," he said. "Alright. I guess this means-" he looked up at the bluenette and smiled "-I'll see you on Monday, then." _That's right,_ Daisuke's thoughts assured him. _Just give him some time. Let today sink in over the weekend. You can work on getting him to open up once school starts again next week._ "Bye!" he cheered, turned, and ran in the other direction, hoping he could still catch his own bus.

The cold teenager continued on his way, passed the park that was always overwhelmed with kids on Friday, and passed the ice cream stand they would congregate around in summer. Now it sold coffee and hot cocoa. He slowed as the stand moved behind him, bringing his cold digits to his mouth and blowing on them to warm them. Glancing back over his shoulder, the dark-haired boy sighed, turning and heading back with one hand fishing in his pocket. The man at the counter looked startled to see the teen approach. "What can I get you?" he asked, trying not to shiver at the icy glare directed his way.

"A small cocoa, please," Ken's monotonous voice rang, dropping several coins onto the counter. Surprisingly, the man behind the counter grew less anxious at hearing him speak, as if Ken's tone told him more than his eyes.

"Alright," he smiled, vanishing inside the stand for a second before returning with a small cup. "Have a safe trip home," he called as the bluenette was walking away.

Heat radiated into his skin through the Styrofoam cup. The same sensation permeated through him with each sip he took. His troubled mind was still trying to figure out why he had stopped in the first place. But, unlike last time, he kept half his attention on where he was going so he could make it home on time.

"Welcome home, Ken," Takashi called as the boy walked in the door. Seeing the cup, he asked, "What'd you get?"

Ken half-expected to get reprimanded for his actions (only half because he hadn't been so far). After several seconds of questioning eyes, Ken said, "Cocoa."

The police officer nodded and smiled, saying, "Do you like it?" while going back to his work.

Ken stared dumbfounded at his guardian. Again there was that word, like. And again there was a smile directed at him. Setting his half-empty cup on the table, Ken went into the kitchen and made dinner. Once he'd finished eating he took a shower and work on homework until ten. It took him nearly an hour to get to sleep, though. His mind wandered back to the cinnamon-haired boy, and the man at the cocoa stand, and Takashi. He drifted off with their smiles in his thoughts.

* * *

Ken buckled his seatbelt and stared out the window, waiting for Takashi situate himself in the driver's seat and head towards their destination. The amethyst-eyed boy had woken that Saturday morning with the smiles still plaguing his thoughts. What confused him was why he wasn't letting it go. He had seen smiles before, so what made these so different? Because they were directed at him?

Pavement tolled out behind them as the minutes drew by, bringing them ever closer to the white walled building Ken knew all too well. On the second story of the plain, four story building was a large room. A chair and desk faced a beige couch. Three of the walls were a color somewhere between white and the couch, while the fourth wall, the one behind the desk, was a giant window. A simple wooden door was to the right of the couch. It was Mrs. Hiromi's room, Ken's counselor since he was nine. They were heading to their scheduled appointment.

"Mrs. Hiromi is in her room," the clerk said as they entered. The two males nodded and went directly to the elevator. Takashi pressed the two button, and they exited when it dinged and the door slid open.

Mrs. Hiromi was waiting for them, and she ushered Ken in. "You'll be back in a few hours, like normal?" she asked. "Okay, take care, Takashi." He must have said yes. The woman closed the door and sighed, her red hair that reached the middle of her back falling around her shoulders. Naomi Hiromi was twenty-eight and married to a doctor. She had striking, hazel eyes that more often looked yellow than green or blue, and she always ore dresses that clung to her like a second skin. Sighing again, she sat opposite the boy who her heart wept for, and prepared for another non-progressive day.

She was in the process of opening her mouth to speak when her voice snagged in her throat.

"Why do people smile?" the ex-assassin-in-training asked, eye focused on her, waiting for an answer.

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Hehe, I love writing cliffhangers. Look forward to her answer, and more in **Chapter 3: Confusing Answers.**


	4. Chapter 3: Confusing Answers

Here it is, the next chapter!

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

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**Chapter 3: Confusing Answers**

"Why do people smile?" he asked again when no response was offered. Her hazel eyes were wide with shock, mouth slightly open, mind desperately trying to work. Ken's repetition of the question pulled her out of her stunned trance, and she lightly shook her head to clear it. Ken gave her the seconds she needed, knowing he needed an answer and she could provide it.

Then she did something that startled him, she smiled at him too. Not her usual smile, a disarming one meant to break down the well-constructed walls surrounding him, but a true smile, like the ones so bewildering him now. "People smile because they are happy," she said.

Violet pools shimmered with confusion. _Why is everyone using foreign terms?_ he wondered. "Happy?" Ken asked. "What is happy?"

Naomi watched the teen shift from side to side where he sat on the couch. He eyes never left hers, but the perplexed look never left them either. There was something else there too. Fear, maybe? That would be understandable. This had never happened to the teenager before, and humans instinctually fear what they don't understand. It could also be curiosity, another effect of an unknown existence. Problem was, Ken was taught against both of those.

The boy's shifting again pulled her back. His feet were on the couch, chin resting on his knees, arms wrapped around the grey material covering his legs. She chuckled a bit at the boy. He had been removing his shoes. "Let's see if I can explain that," she mumbled. The problem was, all the words she knew to explain it were words Ken did not understand, such as joy. How do you describe an emotion to someone who does not know the related emotions, or the opposing ones? Naomi seriously wondered if Ken understood sadness, which he should, seeing as to what he's been through. But, the same training that prevented him from feeling joy could have prevented sadness too.

"Ken, happiness is hard to explain without a common frame of reference," she stated, hoping to touch his intellectual side and get to his emotional one through it.

"I don't want to know about happiness, I want to know about happy," the navy-haired boy replied, voice even.

Naomi sighed. "Happiness is the act of feeling happy," she corrected. "It is an emotion, so it is difficult to describe." She watched her companion nod.

"What type of frame of reference do you need?" he asked.

"Have you ever felt a warmth right here?" she inquire, placing a hand over her heart. "Not a physical warmth, but one that you just know is there." His eyes betrayed his confusion, his actions and facial expression showing he was trying to think. After a moment, he slowly shook his head. "Then have you ever felt a sinking feeling, or a cold one? Almost as if you're drowning and all alone, even if you aren't."

Another thoughtful expression crossed his features, before he slowly nodded. "I think I have," he answered. "Is that happiness?"

Naomi's expression turned pained. _So he does know sadness... _she thought sorrowfully. "No, that is not happiness. That is the emotion sadness, and before you say anything, this is relative to happiness. Could you tell me when you last felt like that?"

A knife to the heart would have hurt her less. "It is who I am." That simple expression, used by so many people, in so many different circumstances, held more weight than the world on Atlas' back. She found herself standing and shuffling over to the teen, gently wrapping her arms around his shoulders and crying softly. "Why are you crying?" he asked.

Sniffling, she replied, "People cry when they are sad. Do you always feel like this? Does it never stop?"

"It stopped for some reason," he said. "Twice before." She pulled back and looked him in his lavender eyes, an emotion he would later learn as to be hope residing in the depths of her hazel eyes. "I don't remember the first time, really, but when he kept smiling at me it seemed to stop. For a little while, at least. Maybe it was just an illusion."

"Don't think like that," she said, forceful but not stern. "So it only stopped? Nothing else happened?" He nodded, and she sat next to him on the couch. "Okay, so the boy alleviated your sadness momentarily. Listen Ken, sadness is the opposite of happiness, just like dark is opposite to light. Sadness is the feeling that only bad things will happen. It is a sinking feeling that makes you forget the good. Happiness is like a warmth that spreads throughout your entire body, making you feel you can do anything and pushing all the bad thoughts away."

It took Ken a moment to digest all that he was told, but once he did, he spoke up again. "Why would he be happy because I yelled at him?" That boy was really confusing.

Naomi chuckled. "I don't think he became happy because you yelled at him," she began, but was cut of before she could finish.

"Then why was he happy!?" Ken yelled, desperation in his voice. He _had_ to know.

"Ken, when you asked me that first question," she started, "when you asked me why people smile, and just know, when you raised your voice, I felt the happiest I have since I got married four years ago."

"Why?"

"Because you showed me something," Naomi replied. "For the first time in six years you showed me something other than neutrality. You normally look like a walking corpse, like you don't have a personality or a soul. A vortex inside a human shell. I think he was happy... because you showed you were human."

Neither needed to say anything else, and nothing else was said. Ken had to figure this out before she could tell him more. Naomi almost laughed at the irony, but didn't want to ruin Ken's chain of thought. _To think, that boy could do in thirty minutes what I failed to do in six years, _she thought.

Takashi remained painfully quiet. It was difficult to not talk to the normally unresponsive teenager, but he had to leave the bluenette to his thoughts. Naomi had briefed him on the session when he came to pick Ken up. It was the news he had been waiting for for six years now. But if he disturbed the fifteen-year-old now there was a possibility he would push away again.

"We're here," he said as they arrived at the station. Purple orbs, showing confusion and tiny revelations, turned to the officer. Their owner nodded and opened his door. He made a beeline, though noticeably slower, to the kitchen.

His thoughts consumed him, and for several minutes, he stood in the middle of the linoleum room. _If I am always sad, how can I change that?_ Ken asked himself. _If happiness is the opposite of what I am, then that's what I want to be..._

The crack of a whip echoed, almost causing Ken to flinch. Turning on his heels, he saw no one. _–You do no want, you just do!- _Another crack of the whip. He could see his mother's face, feel the cruel leather stripping his back, taste the coppery blood in his mouth. He wasn't allowed to want. She wouldn't let him.

_She's not there,_ a small voice in his head whispered. _She is no longer there._ Why did it sound so familiar? _She is no longer oppressing you._

En's eyes shot open. He hadn't even realized he had closed them. But gazing around the room, her words slowly faded away. "She's not here," he said. It took him several minutes more to move again, and when he did, his mine quietly (very quietly, so much so he didn't even hear it) chanted, _She is not here. She is not here._ The helpful, little, somehow-familiar voice smiled.

* * *

_He was floating, and he couldn't see. He was confused, where was he? No matter how much he tried, he could not remember this place anywhere. He called out, but could not hear it. He reached out, but his fingers found nothing to grasp. Sight was useless in this world of impenetrable darkness. Maybe it swallowed sound, too. And touch, and all the other senses._

_Absolute solitude. Ken could not help but feel lonely at that fact; he was truly alone, with no chance of being found. That ever familiar feeling rose up again, the water that choked his lungs even though he could breath. When had it left? It had to have left to rise up again._

_'Why must I feel like this?!' his non-working voice yelled. No sound came out, but he knew he had said it. 'I don't want this!'_

_He did not hear it, but he knew instinctively that a whip cracked again. _–You do not want, you just do.-_ Another cruel hit from that length of leather. _–You have no need for want!-

_The boy shrank back, pulling up his legs and hiding behind his knees. Tears in his eyes, he scanned the endless black for the figure of his mother. 'Why do you do this?!'_

-It is for your own good.-

_Was her voice in his head, and that's why he heard her? 'What good does this do me? I don't want to be alone or sad!' The ex-assassin-in-training did not realize his amethyst pools were flooding over, the fact he was arguing with his mother not registering until she yelled at him._

-Shut up!-_ The harsh sound of chain rang in his head and he sunk back again._

_'I don't want this…' he cried, hands tangled in his hair, eyes squeezed shut. 'I don't want to be lonely. I don't want to be sad.' Each sentence seemed to bring her closer. 'I want to be happy.'_

_Tink!_

_Did he really just hear something? The noise was so quiet he second-guessed hearing it._

_Tink!_

_He did hear something. Peeking over his knees, the boy could still see nothing, and the threat of his mother was still so close, so real._

_Tink! And another noise, almost like a soft, distorted voice._

_Uncurling a little more, Ken's eyes scanned the deep emptiness around him. 'Who's there!?' he yelled without sound. 'What's there!?'_

_The woman was getting closer. He couldn't see her, or hear her, or feel her, but he just knew. It was as if she was in his head, slowly growing bigger until she filled his skull._

_Tink! Again there was another sound after it._

_Unfolding his body, the blue-haired male closed his eyes._

_Tink! And the sound._

_'That way!' he said, turning to face the direction the sound originated from. Pain welled up in him as he felt her hand latch around his throat._

_Tink! There was a garble of unrecognizable syllables, but one word managed to slip through—_Illusion.

_"Illusion?" Ken repeated. "What do you mean?!"_

_Tink! _…Illusion.

_He could make out the shadow outline of something. His breath stopped coming, and he desperately reached towards the only thing he could see._

_Tink! _It's just an illusion.

_Ken stopped struggling. It wasn't real. The voice—oh where did he hear it before?—told him so. The pressure left his throat, dim lights illuminating the chamber he was in, but only barely. A statue, at least fifteen meters tall, stood in the center. A second figure, maybe five centimeters taller than Ken, was at the statue's base. Both were dark, no details visible. The second figure was still easy to distinguish as human. "Who are you?" the confused teenager asked._

_Tink! Tink! Tink! The figure gave no reply, just kept tap-tapping away on the wedge in the enlarging crack._

* * *

_What was that?_ his mind whirred. He had woke up that morning with water leaking from his eyes, and the dream fresh in his thoughts. He was crying, because he was scared, because he was _sad_. It hadn't occurred to him until then he didn't want to feel like he did. But whose voice was that? Why had it helped him? He wasn't complaining, it had helped him, but he wanted to know. Did it help him… because it saw him as human?

Takashi was driving him to Naomi again. The older male was silent, but his shifting betrayed his nervousness. The pale teen in the seat next to him had been deep in thought since the session the morning before, was it really right to bring him to another one while his mind was still comprehending the previous one? Taking several deep breaths, he tried to focus solely on where he was going.

"Takashi?" Ken spoke up, causing the police officer to jump. "Do I… act human to you?"

Stopping at a red light, Takashi met Ken's violet, emotionless eyes. His mind wrestled with the possibility of lying, not sure what answer the boy was hoping for. The light turned green and he had to look back to the road.

"Well?" Ken asked, no desperation in his voice, despite its vice-like grip on his heart.

The officer pulled over into a parking lot and stopped. Sighing, he looked up as if recalling something, and started. "At times like this, yes," he stated. "I had hoped you would get better when you first came, but as you grew older I began to doubt it." He could almost feel Ken's face fall. "You act like a machine, not a human."

"Oh," was the small reply. The bluenette looked down. Even the person who stayed by him the entire time thought he was nothing but a cold mass of emotionless mechanics.

"But…" Takashi continued, drawing Ken's attention back to reality. "I never fully gave up. And I'm glad I didn't. Whatever or whoever brought this change over you, you've shown me more life than I ever saw in you. But it's just a small fraction of the possibilities, like a crumb from a cake. You may never fully recover, but I want to stand by you until you don't want me there anymore. I want to help you learn to be human." He looked over at his teenage ward, enthusiasm at his speech radiating in his eyes, and nearly panicked. "Look, it's not your fault you don't know! I mean, you normally learn this as a child, but your parents kind of beat that out of you. So I want to see you get better and have fun like a normal teenager."

Ken nodded, and action telling his guardian he knew what he meant.

The rest of the drive was in silence. _I want to get better..._ Ken told himself. _Why would they want me to not be human?_

Takashi nodded to Naomi as Ken walked in and sat down. They spoke for several minutes before she walked over and sat next to him. "Are you alright?" she asked. "Do you need more time to think?"

Blue hair swayed as he shook his head slowly. "I think I understood what you told me yesterday," he announced, then fell silent. Neither spoke for several minutes, letting the sound of their breathing and the grandfather clock in the corner fill the space. While slightly awkward, it was a relaxing sensation, just letting time flow by and catch up.

Inhaling deeply, the ex-assassin-in-training took to dive. "What can I do to become happy?"

* * *

The voice and the shadow working on the statue become pretty major characters later. It is kind of strange, and I will explain it more at the end of next chapter, when I actually will have to explain it.


	5. Chapter 4: The Additions to Routine

Okay, this chapter speeds things up, but only a tiny bit. Ken is starting on the road to recovery here. To be honest, I hadn't really been sure what to do with this chapter at first. I had to figure out where I wanted to next chapter to go so iI could write this one. Things will speed up more in a few chapters, with Chapter 6 introducing the other 'Digidestined,' though in this they are only normal kids. Well, as normal as Taichi, Yamato, Sora, Mimi, Koushirou, Jyou, Takeru, Hikari, Miyako, and Iori can be.

The back of the spiral for this fanfiction is falling off, and it's really annoying...

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Additions to Routine**

Five o'clock came all too soon. The insistent beeping of his alarm clock invaded his ears, causing the still-tired teen to grumble as he sat up and harshly hit the infernal thing. Rubbing his sleep-ridden eyes, he sat on the edge of his bed, attempting to not lose the strength in his limbs and fall forward. Ken wasn't sure what was making him so tired, he hadn't gone to bed any later than routine, but he nearly fell as he got out of bed. Dressing lazily and gathering up his bag, he took one last sweep of his room for missing items before heading towards the station.

The guard watched the bluenette approach and hastily sat down. If Ken noticed his movement he didn't show it. "Hello," he greeted the boy as he walked past.

_"Hm. Well, for every person it's different. You will have to find what you like."_ Ken's memory recalled, studying his counselor's words. _"How do I find what I like?" "You have to try things, but let's start simple. You could try being nice to people." _He must have looked confused because she looked thoughtful again before speaking more. _"Try answering when people talk to you. Like, say hello back or something."_

Stopping, the teenager turned somewhat so he could see the guard. "Hello, Mr. Higarashi," he slowly returned. It was awkward, really. For the six years he had been there Ken had never spoken to the man. He saw the dark-hair veteran every day, yet had to try and recall his name. He couldn't even remember the other guy's face, the one who was in that chair for about a week before Mr. Higarashi got transferred. Had Ken thought on it, he might have found the coincidence suspicious.

Continuing into the kitchen, he set the coffee pot and went to the sink, splashing cold water on his face to wake up.

_-You do not reply!-_ Ken jumped at the words drilled into his thoughts. _–Only speak when necessity demands! All over words are a waste of breath!- _Leaning back on the counter, the male covered his ears, squeezing his eyes shut. _–Words are only of use in making a contract. Do not speak!-_ The sensation of her whip crawled up his spine. A chill ran through his arms, warmth trickling down the underside. Pain and… something else, something foreign, yet familiar… gripped his throat. _–When do you speak?-_ A small whine escaped Ken's drawn lips, the teen sliding down to sit on the floor. _–When do you speak?-_ The boy tried to melt into the wood behind him. _–Answer m-_

A beep echoed in the room, snapping the now breathing hard bluenette out of his waking nightmare. He felt the non-existent chains falling from his wrists. The blood trailing down his arms had even less substance. Standing, he felt the stretch on the scars littering his pale torso, hand absently rubbing the thin lines on his wrist. _It wasn't real,_ a voice in his mind said.

_Then what are these scars?_ Ken's mind shot back.

_Scars symbolize the past,_ the voice replied. _This is the present. _A soft sensation touched his cheek. It was gentle, caring, safe. Ken realized it felt similar to a hand, but there was no one except him in the room, and he still felt the gentle sensation on his cheek.

The coffee machine beeped again, and the comforting touch receded. Shaking off the last bits of apprehension from the panic attack, he retrieved a mug and filled it with the black liquid. A spoonful of sugar and a packet of creamer later, the purple-eyed boy walked back down the hall.

"Why, thank you Ken," Mr. Higarashi said, taking the cup carefully.

"You're welcome," Ken replied awkwardly. The man stared at him strangely, making the teenager uncomfortable. He was smiling, though, so he couldn't be mad at Ken, right? Turning and heading back to the kitchen, he didn't see Mr. Higarashi's grin turn to a grimace.

Packing a small lunch and stuffing it in his bag, Ken went back to the eggs before he burned them. Flipping the last one over, he heard the door open. Footsteps approached from behind, stopping a few feet back. "Something smells good," Takashi commented, receiving a nod from the boy. Normally he's wait in the dining room, but Naomi had asked him to try and help Ken adjust to conversation. _"I'm giving him 'homework' and I want you to help him out." "Homework?" "Yeah. He wants to get better. He just doesn't know how. So I've given him homework. Even if it's just saying 'hi' back, he needs to converse with people."_ "So, what are you making?"

Ken looked over his shoulder, bewilderment on his face. Could Takashi _really_ not tell? "Eggs, bacon, and toast," he replied, turning a piece of bacon.

"Can I help?" the older male asked, startling Ken. Breakfast (and dinner) had always, ever since he was five, been his chore. Now, suddenly, someone was asking if they could help.

"Um," the bluenette articulated as the toaster popped up. "You can butter the toast," he slowly said. He faintly thought he heard his mother yelling at him that he does what he's told, he does not command, but it seemed something was blocking it. May it was Takashi's presence. Or maybe, it could be that voice.

"Alright!" the police officer cheered, practically skipping over to the toaster and dropping the still-too-warm-to-touch toast as they burned his fingers.

Yuma was surprised when both Ken and Takashi came out of the kitchen several minutes later. "How are you doing, Ken," she asked as he sat her plate down in front of her.

Walking back to his seat, he shot Takashi a worried glance. His guardian nodded in Yuma's direction, smiling. "I'm okay," he reluctantly replied, taking a bite.

"That's good to hear," the female officer responded.

A stiff silence fell over them, broken only by the clinking of metal forks on ceramic plates. Ken, so unused to conversation, found his words caught in his throat. Takashi and Yuma, so foreign to the introverted teen, did not know which conversation threads to grasp at. As a result, the minutes ticked by with the two normally talkative adults unsure of how to react to Ken's sudden turn around. For six years they tried to get him to speak, and now that he was, they could not find their own voices.

The fifteen-year-old stood, taking his plate and fork to the sink and automatically cleaning them. "It's really good, Ken," Yuma said as he reappeared.

Pausing for a second to look at her, he bowed his head slightly, saying, "Thank you." Gathering up his bag, he started the thirty-seven minute walk to school.

* * *

_Three, two, one… _the bluenette thought. And right on cue, the door slowly creaked open to allow in the brunette. It almost surprised Ken that he subconsciously knew when to count down for the trouble-maker's entrance, but he_ had_ been in first period with him for two years, and he _was_ very observant, and Daisuke _was_ very hard to miss, so he wasn't shocked.

"Daisuke, you're late," the teacher stated. Ken started to wonder if the teacher counted the seconds, too. "Go take your seat." Her response almost seemed automated, and she didn't even slow in her writing on the board. Rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, he made his way through the classroom. Several kids held their breath as he sat down… in the seat to Ken's right.

"Hiya, Ken," Daisuke beamed as loud as he dared, leaving our infamous bluenette in a sort of predicament. Does he ignore the annoyance, or does he answer?

"Good morning, Motomiya," Ken replied monotonously. He _was_ supposed to talk to get better, right?

The soccer player's face lit up. "So, what'd you do over the weekend? Anything special?" the brunette asked.

"No, nothing out of the ordinary," Ken replied with the same, droning tone, taking silent notes. It did not escape his attention that as the seconds passed the burgundy eyes on him seemed to intensify their annoyed glare. "Yes?" he prompted.

"Aren't you going to ask about my weekend?" Daisuke asked.

"Should I?" Ken asked, obviously confused.

The glare was instantly gone. "Yeah, that's what friends do," the other male smiled.

Reluctantly, a bad feeling rising in the back of his mind, Ken asked, "What did you do over your weekend, Motomiya?"

That euphoric grin couldn't be evil, right?

* * *

"Daisuke, please stop," the teen quietly begged. It was too much to handle all at once. The ex-assassin-in-training's rational mind could not process the absurdities of normal life when everything was thrown at him too quickly. To his surprise, his companion shut up.

The burgundy-eyed boy studied his new friend. Ken was partially curled into a ball in his seat, hands up over his ears and eyes tightly closed. _He's struggling,_ the soccer player realized, reaching over to place a comforting hand on the bluenette's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he cooed, rubbing soothing circles on the other male's shoulder blade. "You really are like a little kid," he said.

Amethyst orbs opened to look at the person watching him. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's as if you don't understand the concept of a friend," Daisuke replied. "I overwhelmed you a second ago, and it scared you." His solemn expression lightened as he saw the reclusive teen's nervous one. "So I will have to teach you to be a kid!"

Neutrality taking over his features again, Ken said with just a hint of enthusiasm, "Okay." Daisuke was about to reply when the bell cut him off. "Get to third period on time," Ken scolded, putting on his "honor student" mask before walking to the door.

"I'll see you at lunch!" the brunette yelled, waving hyperly. He could have just stood there all day (well, until lunch, at least) but Ken's warning rang in his head. Grinning like the idiot he was, the brunette took off down the hall, determined to make his bluenette proud and not only make it to third period on time, but to fourth and fifth as well. Vaguely he realized he referred to Ken as his, but passed it off as friendship.

Lunch could not come quick enough, and the boy fidgeted through all his classes.

"Hey, Clown," Shion smirked. "Have to go to the bathroom?"

"No," Daisuke replied, shaking his head. "I can't wait until lunch."

The bleached blonde next to him laughed. "Do you ever think with something other than your stomach?"

"Yep, occasionally," the brunette replied, the annoying ring of the bell breaking through the bored conversations. "Oh, bye!" Daisuke cheerfully yelled as he bolted out the door, leaving behind a trail of smoke and a growling Shion.

Ken stared questionable at the… "Is that supposed to be food?" the bluenette inquired.

Stuffing his face, the soccer player replied, "Yeah, it's actually quite good. Want to try some?" It was surprising how clear he could speak with food(?) in his mouth. He shoved a spoonful of the stuff at Ken.

The other male looked at the spoon disgustedly. "No, thank you," he declined, pushing the repulsive gunk away. "I'd prefer to live."

Daisuke burst into laughter at Ken's comment, quieting immediately at the teen's nervous shifting. "I've been eating this stuff since I was six, and I turned out fine," the boy stated, spreading his arms out wide. Ken quickly glanced at him before turning back to his own, packed lunch.

"I'd rather not take the chance," the bluenette monotonously replied. "And I'd rather keep my brain cells intact." Daisuke chuckled slightly despite the joke about his intelligence, then let a comfortable silence cover them.

"Have you ever played soccer?" he asked after he could no longer hold in his voice. It had only been ten minutes, but it felt like hours to the social butterfly.

"No," came the indifferent reply.

"Played any sport?" the brunette pressed on.

"No."

"You should try some," Daisuke said. "You might find you like it. Try stopping by for practice some time."

"I don't have time," Ken stated.

"Then make some." Ken didn't reply, and Daisuke remained silent the rest of lunch, not wanting to overload his new friend again.

* * *

Daisuke once again saw him off after seventh period, though this time he ran to practice when Ken refused to let him come over again. The man at the cocoa stand sold the bluenette another cup of hot cocoa.

"I'm home," the teen shyly said as he walked in.

"Welcome home," Takashi enthusiastically replied after the seconds of shock subsided.

As Ken walked into the kitchen, his mind said, _I could get used to this._

The helpful little voice smiled.

The dark figure chipped away at the statue.

* * *

Okay now, teh 'voice' that keeps telling him his mother is no longer there and the sensation in his cheek that is comforting are the same thing. Ken's mind has 'created an entity' meant to help him recover, and Ken will sometimes physically feel it as it helps him alone. It is, yet isn't a separate being from him.

The dark figure... Well, you'll learn about it later, alone with the statue.

Also note that I have finals next week, so I might be a day or two late posting up teh next chapter, because I write the one after next before I post the next.

Look forward to the next chapter~!


	6. Chapter 5: The Name of the Game

Okay, I don't have an excuse for the lateness of this chapter. The truth is that I was just lazy. I also just got a DS Lite and I have over 100 hours on my Pokemon Platinum game, which is VERY distracting, and about 40 hours on Dragon Quest IV. So yeah, games took over... I will hopefully do better now that strawberry season has started. By working, I get motivated to do things more active or "work-like" than normal. Anyway, for those of you who might have been afraid I wasn't going to finish, I will say this: If I ever plan to stop writing a fic permenantly, I will type out a summary of what I was planning for the rest of the story, so you aren't left wondering what was going to happen. I hate it when people do that, so I won't. I will also be starting college on July 13, so I might slow down more at that time. Wish me luck!

Enter one of the problems! You will have to read and find out. I hope none of you like Shion. There will be more about him in chapter 7.

Enjoy the chapter!

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Name of the Game**

A feral growl issued from his throat, his fist solidly connecting with the concrete wall. Everything was going wrong! This was not the plan! The brunette was not supposed to be walking away from him! His cold eyes watched Daisuke disappear into the crowd, running to meet up with the blue-haired freak who treated the soccer player like dirt. So why did Daisuke keep running back to him? The plan had been so simple, and should have worked. The brunette would be his normal, stupid, naïve self and accept the dare. Upon trying to befriend Ken he would be shot down and come crying back to the blonde. The blonde would then comfort him.

So why didn't it work?

Shion growled again and stomped out of the classroom. Daisuke kept running back to the bluenette. He should be running to Shion, the guy who stood by him for years and lusted after him for just as long. To torture him for so long had to be illegal, but to leave him for another man? He would pay. Both of them would pay.

It wasn't hard to locate his target, the violet-eyed teen always occupying the same seat. Daisuke was to his right, rambling away. Violently grabbing his tray and getting his lunch, Shion stalked a direct path to the back corner, malicious gaze never leaving the bluenette.

As he got closer, Shion painted on a false smile; wouldn't do for Daisuke to wee what an asshole he really was, after all. He also didn't want Ken to catch on. The bluenette was not fooled. He may not know much about emotions, but he was excellent with disguises.

"Hey Daisuke!" Shion cheered as he carelessly flopped into a seat.

"Shion!" the brunette replied, beating the bleached blonde's fake smile. "I didn't think you came to the cafeteria to eat. What are you doing here?"

"I can't hang out with my _friend_?" Shion asked, putting emphasis on the word even as he watched Ken reach towards the soccer player's hand. "I haven't seen you recently"

The feeling of flesh on his drew the athlete's attention. Ken had lightly gripped Daisuke's wrist and was currently moving it. "It was going to fall in you lap," the reclusive male stated, pointing to the green goop that landed in what Ken suspected to be mashed potatoes. With Daisuke's attention temporarily distracted, Shion took the chance to shoot an accusatory glare at Ken. The bluenette noticed the action out and the corner of his eye, assassin senses kicking in. That man was going to be trouble.

The smile was back by the time Daisuke looked back at him again. How has this last week been?" he asked, placing a hand on the brunette's shoulder. The naïve boy didn't notice the lecherous gleam in his 'friend's' eyes.

"It's been a lot of fun!" the male enthusiastically said around a mouthful of… the other two boys didn't even _want_ to know what that stuff was, and Shion pushed his tray away slightly. "It's funny, really. Ken is just like a little kid." Said bluenette scoffed at the remark; he had been hearing it all week. Before he could open his mouth to protest, Daisuke cut him off. "And before you say that is not true, try defining 'friend.'" Ken glared at the corner in annoyance, trying not to puff his cheeks childishly. "You can't, can you? You may be college-level book smart—speaking of which, why are you in some of my classes?—but you are seriously lacking when it comes to street smarts." Ken nearly laughed at that. He, the child assassin prodigy, lacking street smarts? "Okay, street smarts not the term I was looking for… Shion, what was I thinking of?"

The blonde tossed his head from side to side. "Social abilities," he chuckled.

"Yeah, that! I don't really know your street smarts since you won't let me go to your place," Daisuke grinned.

Shion gripped his chair painfully hard, jealousy threatening to close his throat.

"Are you going to eat that?" the question came from his left.

"No," he replied, pushing his tray to Daisuke. The soccer player immediately dug in. Ken wasn't the only one looking kind of sick at the boy's display. "Daisuke, how much longer are you planning on playing this game?" The seriousness in his tone queued Ken into the problem.

Daisuke stopped mid-chew, eyeing the blonde before swallowing the mouthful. "What are you talking about?" he asked, not used to a serious Shion.

"It was only for a week," the blonde replied. "And you started last Friday at lunch. How much longer do you plan to hang out with Ken?"

A look similar to fear crossed the brunette's features, but Ken didn't notice. _It was all a game?_ His mind wondered. _Everything is just a game? A joke?_ The bluenette didn't realize how pained he looked.

"Wait, Ken," Daisuke tried as said male stood to leave.

"A game, huh?" Ken asked, violet eyes cold, yet glaring heat. "And to think I actually took you seriously." A mix of anger, hurt, and his characteristic sadness welled up behind his eyes. Grabbing his bag, the boy quickly departed from the room, only those close to the exit lucky enough to see the two tears that escaped their confines and leaked down his cheeks. Shion could not contain his smirk.

"Good job, Shion!" Daisuke yelled, his own anger surfacing. Everyone who knew Daisuke knew he did not anger easily. "You enjoyed that?" The smirk left the blonde's face. "This isn't a game! I seriously want to be Ken's friend! And then you… I don't need friends like _you_, Shion the Cruel!" Grabbing his own stuff and the two trays, Daisuke stomped away, not even pausing as he threw the plastic trays in the trash and heard the cafeteria lady yell at him for it.

"Daisuke," Shion pleaded futily from his seat. Several eyes turned to regard him, and few of those who had did not turn away in horror. Unbridled fury blazed in the teen's eyes, along with a hostile intent. _This is all Ken's fault,_ his mind echoed. "All his fault… and I will make him pay." Standing, Shion calmly followed the same path the two boys before him had taken. _Just you wait, Ken. I will get rid of you somehow._

* * *

"Ken?" the brunette asked tentatively. Daisuke was hunkered down slightly, eyes big and staring up at the bluenette with that nearly-in-tears look. Had he been a dog, his ears would be down in dejection and his tail would be hanging lifelessly. None of it seemed to phase the statue of stone he was trying to coerce into talking to—or even listening to—him. Several other kids gave him piteous looks, though. Receiving no answer, he tried again. "Ken?" He again received the cold shoulder, the bluenette's only action being to turn the page in the book they were supposed to be reading.

Sighing in defeat, Daisuke looked back to the book on his own desk. Wrinking his nose in disgust, he unceremoniously dropped the repulsive thing into his book bag along with all the other supplies he had out. Not like was going to work in class. That would be criminal! Besides, he wanted to tail his blue-haired friend after school to explain the situation.

Glancing at the clock, Ken listlessly closed his book and neatly placed it in his bag. He had seen Daisuke do the same thing ten minutes before (and heard the insistent whining before that) though he was not about to admit he was still following the athlete's actions. He had cried at lunch. He didn't even know he was _able_ to cry (though he had cried before, but that was out of fear, right?). But, the brunette caused him to cry, so he was ignoring him. Or so he told himself. It did not escape his notice that Daisuke followed him out the door and stopped with him at his locker, same pathetic look on his face. He also realized the soccer player did not rush to his own bus station, but instead followed him as he made his way home.

Ten minutes later and still being followed by Daisuke, Ken stopped. "What do you want?" he asked icily.

"You weren't lying about walking home, and not living near by," he mumbled feebly, trying to stall as much as possible to try and get Ken in a better mood.

"And you would know all about lying, wouldn't you?" Ken retorted, venom biting into his words. He knew he sounded sour, but he didn't care. He was sour. He had come to trust Daisuke only to learn it was all a joke, a game meant to entertain him for a week. He had been relying on Daisuke to help him get past the cold barriers he'd created around himself. Maybe his mother was right, he had no need for want. By wanting to get better he only got worse. If that is what always became of want, then he'd rather not want at all.

"That's not it," Daisuke replied, an edge of desperation in his tone. Progress. He had finally been making progress, then Shion had to go and say that. Ken's will was extremely fragile, and the shock might have broken it.

"Then what is it?" the ex-assassin-in-training yelled, several people turning to regard the two boys.

"At first it was just a game," the soccer player admitted, hanging his head in shame. "Shion comes up with those things all the time. But…" He looked back at the bluenette and smiled weakly. "I really do want to be your friend. I thought you were cold because you were stuck up. But then I actually got to talking to you." He walked forward a step, placing a hand on the other boy's shoulder. "You were just alone, and sad, and didn't know how to change that." Tears were forming in Daisuke's eyes now. He didn't wipe them away, and instead slid his arms around Ken's torso, capturing him in a firm embrace. "I know I can be an idiot at times, and I'm annoying, and obnoxious, and have a short attention span, and I'm slow, and—"

"Daisuke, you're rambling again," the amethyst-eyed teen cut in. true though all that was, Ken found himself unable to push the scatter-brained athlete away. Sighing, he asked, "What do you want from me?"

Jerking back, Daisuke stared at the other boy's pale face. His own, tanned features were touched with a joyous smile. "Your friendship," he cried, tears again forming in his mahogany pools. "I want to be your friend."

"Eh! Why are you crying?" Ken asked, almost freaking out. What had he done this time? "Okay, okay! I'll be your friend, so stop crying."

"Idiot," the brunette replied. "I'm crying because I'm happy." Okay, Ken was majorly confused. He'd have to remember to ask Naomi tomorrow. "You gave me a second chance. Everyone deserves a second chance, no matter who they are or what they've done in the past."

"A second… chance?" Ken mumbled as Daisuke hugged him again.

"Hey Ken, can I go home with you today?" the boy asked, suddenly feeling better and no longer crying.

"No."

* * *

"Hey Ken, welcome home," Takashi cheered as his ward entered the police station.

"Hello, Takashi," the bluenette replied, making his way towards the kitchen. Stopping halfway there, he asked, "Do I deserve a second chance? Even after what I was raised to be and what I did to that boy when I was in seventh grade?"

The officer was taken aback by the sudden question, but recovered quickly. Ken had been a lot more vocal lately, and Takashi was finally starting to get the hang of it. "Yes," he answered.

_See! I told you so,_ the familiar voice said, the warm feeling of a hand on Ken's shoulder. He didn't need to look to know it wasn't there.

He did not feel the cold glare on his back.

* * *

Okay, this was a really short chapter. Just barely over 2000 words, and it only took up 4 of my written pages (I have REALLY TINY handwritting, litterally about size 7-8 font when I'm writing a story. I can sometimes fit more than one typed page onto a single written page...)

Again, sorry for my tardiness.


	7. Chapter 6: New Friends and Enemies

Once again, I have had this chapter written out for several weeks. Finally got it typed up in my computers class because we were doing html coding and I already knew it. Sad as it is to admit, it will probably take a few weeks to get the next chapter up, even though I already have it written out.

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

* * *

**Chapter 6: New Friends and Enemies**

"Ken!" Daisuke yelled, seeing the bluenette approach. Looking up, Ken spotted the enthusiastic athlete at the gate to school. He did not increase his pace, knowing he would meet up with Daisuke soon. Most likely the soccer player would get tired of waiting and run to see him. As he expected, fast footsteps approached him. "Hey, Ken! I am to school on time today! Aren't you proud of me?" he asked.

"Good job, Motomiya," Ken replied, putting as much sincerity as he could into the words.

"Daisuke," the other male said, receiving a questioning glance from the violet-eyed teen to his right. "We're friends, Ken. I don't call you Ichijouji. Call me Daisuke, not Motomiya. You've done it before."

Looking in his friend's smiling eyes, he said, "I'll try, Daisuke."

"Yay! Come on, we need to get to class before it starts!" Daisuke cheered, grabbing Ken's arm and dragging him across the school grounds. Ken, more surprised than anything, stared blank-faced at the back of the cinnamon-brunette's head and allowed himself to be pulled along. Students and teachers alike stood in awe at the soccer player's antics and the normally intimidating teen's lack of retaliation.

Tapping his captor's hand, Ken said, "Excuse me, Daisuke." The other male stopped and looked back at that neutral face with its characteristic scowl. "I need to stop by locker." His tone held the same neutral quality his face did, but Daisuke smiled and pulled him back in the other direction. People scattered at their approach, maintaining what had become considered a safe distance between them and the seemingly volatile bluenette. Daisuke was completely disregarding that barrier.

Retrieving a book and closing the metal door, he moved his hand out of Daisuke's reach. "I can walk on my own, Motomiya," Ken glared in annoyance.

"Daisuke," the cheerful boy corrected.

Sighing, Ken began walking away. Stopping after a few feet and looking back, he asked, "You coming, Daisuke?"

Cheering up immediately, the brunette nearly tripped over his own feet in excitement. "Yep!" he hollered, catching up before Ken had time to sigh again and hooking his arm through the bluenette's, pulling him down the hall. The other students stared after them incredulously. The ocean of students flooded back together behind the pair, staring at the two boys.

Ken lowered his head and tried to ignore the stares, but found the sudden attention increasingly unnerving. In a way, he felt like a deer in the headlights. Having grown up in utter secrecy and shroudery, he felt completely exposed and naked with people analyzing him. A vague part of his mind, maybe a small fragment that survived the brutal conditioning, wondered if any of his family's victims felt the same way when they were being scoped out and stalked.

The classroom door came into sight and all traces of the stray thought fell into the dark recesses of his mind. Rolling his eyes as Daisuke ran into the door, the bluenette untangled his slim arm from his companion's tanned one and open the supposedly difficult obstacle. "Pull, not push, Daisuke," he said, a slight hint of a chuckle in his voice. Already entering the classroom, ken did not see the mischievous smile ghost across Daisuke's features before being replaced with his overly large one. Laughing quietly, he raced after the unsocial teen.

Taking his seat, Daisuke immediately started to ramble. "You know, you learn new things every day, like a pull a door instead of push it."

"You try to sneak in through that door every day, you already knew that," Ken corrected in his normal, flat tone. The cinnamon-brunette didn't seem to have heard for he continued.

"Then again, that's what school is all about, learning new things. I mean, what is the point of coming to school if you don't learn? It would be like going to a food court to buy books. Speaking of lunch, _never_ put hot sauce on the school's Special Surprise. I was running to the bathroom for about six hours afterwards, and it did _not_ have a good color coming out the other end-" A pale hand blocked the rest of the hyperactive male's words. He curiously looked over at Ken, who was covering his own mouth with the other hand.

"That is thoroughly disgusting and you should stop before I become sick," Ken stated.

"Oh, okay," Daisuke said, suppressing his cheerfulness so as to not annoy Ken again.

The teacher walked in at that point and experience had taught him of the uselessness of trying to talk to Ken once class started. Talking to a wall worked better, for walls don't have hands to hit the back of your head with when they'd heard enough.

The teacher paused in her writing and looked around confused. She didn't seem to understand why the door behind her was closed. Swiveling to take in the room, her eyes fell on the odd pair of boys at the back corner. "Oh. You're here on time today, Daisuke," she said, surprise evident.

Ken nearly chuckled, and several classmates actually did, though the ex-assassin-in-training guessed it was for a different reason. For Ken, it was because of a single random thought. _She does count the seconds._

* * *

Hateful eyes watched the brunette depart once again. Bleached hair fell in his eyes and Shion agitatedly swatted the strands away. He wasn't just watching Daisuke leave, he was watching months of work get washed away in a flash flood called Ichijouji. The name left a horrid taste in his mouth and he growled. The first attempt to remove the teenager horrifically backfired. Daisuke wasn't speaking to him after he tried to break the two apart. At that moment, Shion realized sucking up to the brunette would no longer work. Blackmail and force were his only options left. He would have to remove Ken Ichijouji first, though.

Growling again and heading towards the library, he shoved passed a pair of girls, one with brunette locks and the other with long, light purple hair. "Jerk!" the more vulgar of the two hissed, receiving a hit on the arm.

"Miyako!" the brunette scowled.

"What?" the other girl asked. "At least I didn't call him a bastard, or a cock-sucking jackas-Ow!" the brunette hit her again.

"Miyako!" she growled, voice lower than the first time and looking extremely disapproving.

Miyako looked away ashamed. "Sorry, Hikari. For the reference to homosexuality, not for the insults! That guy was a bastard."

"I know he was," the girl called Hikari agreed. "But there was no way he was going to hear you unless you spoke up." She sighed at the purple-haired girl's stupefied expression. "And thank you for apologizing. You really should watch it, though. You know I can get very defensive about it."

Smiling cheerily, Miyako forgot all about the rude bleached blonde and pushed open the door to the cafeteria. "Yeah, come on," she grinned. "Let's eat!" Giggling as the girl drug her towards the serving counter, Hikari figured she'd just tell once they got there that she had packed a lunch so she didn't have to gag down that toxic waste they _tried_ to pass off as food.

A spiky head drew her attention and she watched the class clown weave through the crowd. "Hey, didn't he normally hang out with that jackass blonde?" Hikari asked.

Miyako turned to follow the brunette girl's finger. "Yeah, he used to. I hear he hangs out with Ken, now. You know, that dangerous boy who supposedly broke a guy's arm in the seventh grade," she replied.

"Seems the rumor is true," Hikari said, watching the cinnamon-brunette take a seat at the back table. She continued to observe them as her friend loaded up her tray. When Miyako finally walked back to her, she turned and smiled at her friend's joke as they made their way over to their table. She sat next to a natural blonde, leaning over to give him a slight peck on the cheek, giggling when the other blonde at the table had to hold back her brother. "Come on, Taichi," she chuckled. "I don't get overprotective when you kiss Yamato."

Taichi almost got free from his captor at that comment, for the other male sighed and loosened his grip. "Just because the entire school knows we are going out doesn't mean you have to reiterate it every chance you get," Yamato said, pulling Taichi back into his seat. "Calm down. We all know you got over that over two months ago."

The male brunette grumbled and turned away from his lover when he tried to kiss him. After a few more seconds, he exasperatedly said, "Okay, I give up! What does reiterate mean?"

Chuckling and managing to sneak in a kiss this time, Yamato replied, "I means say, as is over and over and over again whenever the chance comes up like your little sister likes to do."

A slim finger poked the brunette's shoulder, and the photographer girl turned to face her boyfriend. "Yes, Takeru?" she asked.

"What are you looking at so intently?" he asked, tilting his head slightly in a way that never failed to make her smile.

"Daisuke and Ken," she replied, going back to watching them. "For as long as I can remember, I have never seen Daisuke with an actual friend. And Ken was always by himself. It just seems so lonely. It seems so lively and… well… happy over there now, but something still is missing. It still seems to be kind of lonely, like there should be more people over there. I don't think Ken got his joke." Daisuke must have told something funny, for he was laughing, a laugh that seemed to turn nervous and then down when the blue-haired boy didn't join in.

Takeru, who had followed both her words and her eyes, could not disagree. "Then let's go sit with them," he suggested. Hikari gave him a confused look when he stood up. "Come on, let's go sit with them."

Smiling, she also stood. "Yeah!" she cheered.

"Where are you two going?" Taichi asked quickly, standing just as fast.

"To go sit with Daisuke and Ken," Takeru stated.

"If you were paying attention to something other than that sludge you were eating you would know that," Yamato chuckled, receiving a disapproving glare from his boyfriend.

The two nimbly made their way through the lunch room towards the back corner table. They were almost to their destination when people finally realized where they were going. "Can we sit here?" Hikari asked sweetly. Daisuke looked up from his rambling.

"Um…" he said dumbly, Ken focusing on his food. "Alright!" Daisuke exclaimed.

"Thank you," Takeru said, sitting one chair over from Daisuke. "My name is Takeru. And this is-" the girl hit him.

"Hikari," she finished for him. "I can introduce myself."

"Daisuke," the cheerful brunette chimed. "And this is Ken. He really doesn't talk much more than to tell me to shut up or pay attention in class or stop throwing paper airplanes. Sometimes he just hits me to get me to stop because he is too busy doing whatever he's doing to-Ow!"

Ken had gently smacked the back of Daisuke's head. "You're rambling again," he in a monotonous voice.

"And sometimes he does both," he embarrassingly said, rubbing the back of his head.

Hikari's expression was compassionate (in a friendly way). "You seem so lonely," she directed to Ken, who looked up at her from his lunch, a perplexed look on his face. "Both of you do, but you more so, Ken. We figured we would come and see if we could be friends."

Daisuke gave her a pure smile, one very unlike his normal one. "I would like that," he replied. "And you can help me with Ken."

"Help you… with… Ken?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah, teach him what a friend is. He's never had one and I'm afraid I'm not a very good teacher. I'm more suited for the job of 'couch potato' or 'game tester.'"

Hikari giggled at that. "I would love to be friends with you two. That okay with you, Ken?"

The bluenette had no clue how to react. _Just nod_, the voice in his head told him. And he did.

* * *

A hand firmly grabbed his arm and the ex-assassin-in-training turned to see Shion glowering at him. The kid looked half-mad, half-pissed, secluding himself in a shadow with what could clearly ne made out as a closed pocket knife in his hand. "I will only warn you one," he said harshly, squeezing Ken's wrist to demonstrate his strength. "Daisuke will be mine, so I would suggest you stay away from him." He amateurly disappeared into the shadows and made his way towards the next class.

_He is going to be trouble_, Ken thought. Whether to himself or the voice in his head he did not know.

The voice nodded.

* * *

Please enjoy!


	8. Chapter 7: Kaizer

Okay, I have some good news! I've decided to quit college. It takes up a lot of time and I don't have the self-discipline for it. That means I'll have more time to write in these for my fans. I'm looking for work now, yay for me... Stupid loans to pay off...

Okay, I had to share this because it was me being a stupid idiot. **Enigmaestatic** commented on how I had to have kept Osamu alive for a reason, and he thought Osamu was the voice in Ken's head. I could not for the life of me remember where I mentioned Ken's family. It took me several hours and finally (duh!) I remembered I mentioned them in the prologue. I thought it was outright funny, thought you guys might too.

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Kaizer**

_It was dark, so dark he couldn't see. Despite the thick blanket that deprived him of all his means of observation, sight, hearing, smell, touch, and taste, Ken found himself not least bit intimidated. The pool of nothingness had changed since his last visit, becoming lighter, as if it weighed less on his lithe form, without that menacing aura that penetrated his very soul. No, that _lived_ in his soul. Only then did he realize how absolutely quiet it was, how still, how _serene_. Closing his non-seeing eyes, Ken relaxed, leaning back and floating in the non-existent space. He could get used to this feeling, this peace._

_He could get used to a space without his mother's grating voice._

_Equilibrium returned to him, and Ken felt his body being turned to an upright position. Violet eyes blinked open to see the pure blackness softening, becoming a dark gray and lightening a couple shades more. Touch returned as he felt wooden boards beneath his stockinged feet. He wriggled his toes to judge the stability of the structure beneath him, shifting his weight when gravity suddenly returned and he found himself falling into a wooden railing. It seemed to hold, and he cautiously stood back, reorienting himself and gazing around the open room. From what he could tell it was circular, with a distinct ceiling twenty meters above his head. A large, dark object loomed in the middle, slightly towards the opposite wall he was on. Its crest seemed to be just shy of the ceiling. The wood beneath his feet seemed to be a platform on a network of scaffolding, which stopped a few feet behind him and appeared to descend to the floor a good thirty meters below. Running his hand along the wall, he found the stone surface smooth, but cold, giving the sensation of a prison. He saw no doors._

_A small light caught his attention, and the bluenette slowly made his way down the declining platforms. It was then he the distinctive _Tink! Tink!_ of a pickaxe on stone. He might have smiled at the realization of where he was, but if he did, it wasn't a very big one._

_A shiver ran through him as he stepped off the wooden scaffolding to the stone floor. The light was a miner's lantern, set up on a small most next to a shadowed person causing the disturbance in the otherwise still room._

_Ken stopped a couple feet away, trying to see through the shadows to make out the other person's facial features. Shifting his gaze to the huge statue, he was surprised to see the demolition done to it. The small crack he had seen before had grown into a fissure, the area around it chipped away to reveal a dark, hollow interior._

_"What are you doing?" he questioned, violet eyes filled with unveiled curiosity_

_"Working," the familiar person replied._

_"Why are you doing this?" Ken inquired, motioning to the destruction of what had to have been a masterpiece._

_"I am helping you," the figure answered._

_"Who are you?" the ex-assassin-in-training asked._

_They temporarily stopped their actions to turn and face the confused boy. "You know who I am," was the reply._

_"Daisuke?"_

* * *

He quietly sat up and looked around, finding himself back in the prison he called home. _That place, it must be in my head,_ he thought, standing and walking over to the uniform he always wore. Absently stripping off his pajamas, a strange thought crossed his mind. _What if that was the real Daisuke?_ Nervously, he quickly pulled on his clothes and looked around. _Don't be stupid, Ken, there is no way he can see you, even if he can invade your thoughts and dreams._

Trying to get the other male off his mind, the bluenette started with his daily routine, even if he was thirty minutes early again. He almost laughed as he thought of how that was what started all of this. Greeting the guard as he passed him, the violet-eyed teen turned to a more pressing subject; Shion. The bleached blonde was serious trouble, obviously with a grudge against him. Ken's fighter instincts told him it would come down to blows sooner rather than later. He needed to find out more about that kid.

He did not show it on his face, but he was glad when Yuma did not walk in with Takashi; she would only cause trouble. She seemed a little more straight-laced than his guardian, and he needed someone willing to bend the rules a bit.

"Takashi, I need you to do something for me," the bluenette stated after swallowing a bit of food. Startled by the sudden request, the police officer almost choked on his egg.

Chuckling at his own uncoolness, he replied, "What is it that you need, Ken?"

"I need you to get me someone's records," Ken stated nonchalantly, as if it was an everyday request. Takashi dropped his fork onto his plate, his jaw dropping nearly as low.

"What? Ken, those things are confidential! I can't just waltz into my boss' office and take them," he said exasperatedly. "And I certainly wouldn't be allowed to show them to you."

The introverted teen casually sat his own utensil down, pushing his away and clasping his hands together in front of him on the table. "I need to see if he has a record, Takashi. He has something against me and I know for certain a fight in imminent. Will you get them for me, or do I have to break into your boss' office for them?" Having said his spiel, Ken leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that said, "Rebuke that!"

"What's the guy's name?" he sighed defeatedly, quickly taking a bite of food that was increasingly beginning to taste like vomit.

"His name is Shion Hirose," the teenager stated, going back to eating as if they hadn't just had a tense, less-than-legal conversation.

Nervousness still flooding his systems, Takashi continued, "Should I show you when you get back?"

"At school once you get it would be better," Ken replied. "For one, then we can be sure other police members won't see what's going on. Also, then you can put it back as quickly as possible. It may not be probable for the chief to look for it, but it is possible. And I would like to know as much about him as soon as possible." The eyes he saw watching him gave him the chills, and he visibly shivered under that cold gaze. Far from the innocence of youth, they were the calculating eyes of a killer.

"A-alright," he stuttered, more taken aback than afraid.

* * *

"Ken Ichijouji, please come to the office," the loud speaker rang, several eyes turning to regard the teenager as the teacher announced he'd be on his way. The distinct _click!_ of disconnection followed it.

A month ago, Ken might have been ecstatic at the call, calling him away from the overly talkative brunette, but now he found himself growing more and more attached to the absentminded clown. So, it was grudgingly that he stood.

A firm hand gripped his sleeve, deep purple pools turning to drown in cedar-red ones. "I'll see you at lunch, Daisuke," he assured. A gentle smile touched his tanned features and he released Ken's grey sleeve.

"See you there!" he cheered, putting on his overly large grin and giving him a 'thumbs up.'

Shaking his head in a way to say, "You're an idiot," the bluenette gathered the rest of his belongings. Bowing to the teacher, he took his leave, strolling down the hallway at a leisurely pace. Not sure what the reason to call him out of the classroom was, he saw no need to rush.

"Took you long enough to get here," an irritated voice ground out as he entered the principal's office. A very irate looking Takashi sat on the principal's desk (since he asked her to vacate the premises once she called his ward to him), legs crossed with a file in one hand in his lap. He kept glancing around at the closed shades as if expecting someone to jump out at any moment.

At his guardian's anxiety, Ken shook his head. "You can calm down, Takashi," he stated. "No one is going to jump out and bite you." _I can't believe I forgot about this! Must have been because I was too busy talking to Daisuke…_ "I guess I lost track of things. I was talking to a friend… eh?" The look on Takashi's face did a one-eighty at the word 'friend,' changing from glowering and apprehensive to excited and cheerful.

"That Daisuke kid you've been telling me about so much lately?" he asked, all smiles. "I'm really happy for you. You'll have to bring him home at some time." (**A/N:** Takashi, you sound like a proud father whose daughter just got a boyfriend… *sweatdrop*)

"As much as I'd want to talk about Daisuke-" which he found he actually _did_ want to "-we have more important matters to discuss. Can I correctly guess that is Shion's file?" the younger male asked.

Takashi's expression turned grim. "Yeah," he confirmed, handing over the not-so-slim folder to the boy. Many would call him stupid for trusting the ex-assassin-in-training, but many had not seen the profound change that had come over him in the last few weeks. "It's… um…"

"Colorful," Ken finished for him. It had a good deal of papers in it for a reason. "Arrests for theft, burglary, assault. Hm… seems a sixty-year-old woman had to be administered to the hospital for light wounds in that case. Underage drinking and drug use… He's just into all kinds of havoc. Rape charges…"

"It appears that she turned him down. The next night he broke into her house and raped her," Takashi said. "There are several police interviews in them, and I scanned over a couple. One of his comments just struck me. He said that he should be given anything he wants, no matter what or who it is or has it. In other words, he sees something he wants and he takes it. The last incident was when he was thirteen and his parents kept him from a long sentence. There are some notes to unsolved cases from last year that he is apparently a suspect in, but they have no way to tie him in."

Closing the file, Ken kindly handed it back. "Thank you, Takashi," he said. "You took a big risk getting that for me. It was… informational." He turned to leave.

His guardian's hand stopped him as it fell on his shoulder. "You aren't… planning to do anything to him, are you?" the worried officer asked.

"Not unless he attacks me first," Ken assured him.

_Which we both know he will._

* * *

It was not hard to distinguish where the cold glare was coming from; Shion used no means to try and mask it. His eyes shone with unmistakable anger and malice, the teacher even avoiding the back row he sat in.

The direction of that rage was also no mystery; Shion never took his eyes off Ken. Students didn't know whether to worry for the reclusive teen who slowly seemed to be growing friendlier or the bleached blonde whose behavior was rapidly declining. Ken, though, seemed pretty much unphased by the display of aggression. Actually, he ignored it, opting instead to prepare himself for conflict. Nothing he could do to stop the annoying brat in the fifteen-year-old body from picking a fight with him, now could he? It was much more efficient to prepare for the upcoming confrontation.

There was no time to jump him between classes, so as such, it was no surprise to him that he was stopped behind the school building on his way to lunch. "You're in the way, Shion. Move," the bluenette demanded, knowing fully well it would only aggravate his opponent more.

"I thought I told you to stay away from _my _Daisuke," Shion growled.

Ken folded his arms across his chest in an arrogant manner. "You suggested, but I don't normally follow advice from sleazebags and losers," he replied. "And since when did my friend belong to you?"

Another feral growl escaped from Shion's throat. "I told you to leave him alone!" he snapped, moving forward quickly and grabbing the smaller male by the front of his grey shirt.

"How the rash the child be," Ken said with a false accent, his face neutral but his eyes mocking. A very riled Shion shoved a very calm Ken against the wall.

"I tried to warn you, but you just couldn't listen," the blonde said in a low voice, his hand reaching into his back pocket to retrieve the object he always kept there; a switchblade. "I guess I'll have to teach you the hard way."

He aimed for Ken's shoulder, but never found the target. Stupefied, he looked to his knife (which had clanged evilly against the concrete building) and then to where Ken now stood beside him. "Let _me_ teach_ you_," the cold voice said, a pale hand reaching out to slap the hand with the blade away, hitting the correct spot to make Shion release the item. "First, be sure you can beat your opponent. Second, you're attacking wrong." He grabbed the taller male's wrist in a grip far stronger than that his small body should be able to. "When attacking to kill, aim for the heart-" he jabbed two fingers painfully into the area above the mentioned organ "-or the jugular. To debilitate a person, go for the eyes or the tendons in the wrists and ankles. And to contain for interrogation, twist the arm-" he painfully forced the wrist in his grip to navigate behind the other boy's back "-to behind the person, and knock out the knees." A swift kick sent Shion to his knees. "And for the final lesson, next time you pick a fight, be sure it is _not_ with the Kaizer."

Releasing the traumatized boy, he callously stated, "You're just fine, your arm isn't broken," before casually walking away.

* * *

Static.

"The Queen of Spade's branch of the Ace's Assassin Guild have been found out and captured. Reports say that the rumored fourth member of the branch, known only as "The Kaizer," has yet to be found."

Static.

* * *

Okay, I set up that last bit so that if this were a game cutscene or a movie, all you would see is the ant races and then here the voices of an old tv newscast. That is what it is supposed to be. There will be another set up like this next chapter or the one after that.


	9. Chapter 8: Invitation

Okay, first thing's first. I meant to get this out _two weeks ago_ but I didn't, and I am very sorry to those who have been waiting for it. The reason I didn't? That is, quite simply, because I wanted to post in all five of my fanfictions at once this one time as a "I'm out of college and not going back at this moment, yay!" kind of thing. The problem? I had to write in all five of them first. I had four done for the last week, and finally got the fifth one done! So, you can blame this one on the delay. At this point, I will tell you I am still writing this, but I will not guarentee specific update days. I am not giving them up (I love my fanfictions ana my fans), but ti could be two months or two days between updates.

If this chapter sounds a little awkward, I am sorry. Also note that since I don't like soccer (or any 'sport' really, unless you consider martial arts sports) I skipped over a lot of details on that spot. I have pretty much no knowledge on soccer, so I probably even have the time of year they are practicing wrong (it's supposed to be January-February-ish, which I'm pretty sure isn't soccer time, but oh well, please ignore that). Why am I telling you this? Because I hate hiding my faults. i admit when I don't know something, and I try to fix it.

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Invitation**

He hadn't seen Shion in over two weeks. Hell, no one had seen him since Ken had taught him a lesson. He could honestly say he was _not_ missing him. Things had been going smoothly since then, too. Practically the next day Hikari and Takeru drug their older siblings over to meet the ken and Daisuke, the two older teens startling Daisuke when they suddenly kissed. Tai was disappointed with Ken's non-reaction. To be honest, he didn't understand the concept of putting your lips to another person's. By the time a week had passed, the entire group had joined the two loners at that table in the far corner. Other students seemed willing to get closer, as well, some even giving Ken a slight 'hello' before rushing off.

"And then I went to the park and—mmph," the overly talkative cinnamon brunette was cut off by a pale hand over his mouth.

"You've already told them that story, Motomiya," the bluenette stated, removing his hand.

"How many do I have to tell you to call me Daisuke, Ken?" he whined, childishly banging him closed fists on the table. Ken had 'slipped up' enough times to know to call the obnoxious soccer player by his first name, and actually didn't know why he preferred to use the last name instead. He had already deduced that it couldn't be because of Daisuke's reaction, because who would want him to act even _more_ like a three-year-old than he already did. It couldn't be that, right?

Quickly looking around, Ken could have sworn he heard some sort of laughter, and he nearly growled at whoever it was before he felt a familiar warmth on his shoulder. _It's only you again…_ he mentally grumbled. There was the laughter again; yep, it was him.

"Hey Ken, when are you going to try coming to our soccer practice?" the eldest brunette asked, pointing his fork at the distracted teen. "Daisuke said he's been bugging you about it for a while and you said you would come soon. Wasn't that a week or two ago?"

Looking over at his longest companion (unless you count the two police officers) was a bad idea. For some reason, Ken found himself unable to refuse when Daisuke gave him his puppy-face. Sighing and pushing his chair away from the table, the ex-assassin slowly stood. Fishing a couple coins out of his pocket, he said, "I'll go call Takashi and ask if I can stay after…" before heading towards the payphones. A squeal of delight that could only belong to Daisuke issued from behind him, and he sighed again. _How do I get myself into these things?_ he asked.

There was the distinct _clinkity-clack_ of the change falling into the machine, then the dial tone in his ear. Punching in the numbers for his guardian's cell phone, Ken could do nothing but stand and wait for the scatterbrained idiot (he was quite surprised when he realized just how many of those he was surrounding himself with…) to answer. Two more rings and it would go to voicemail…

"Hello?" came the confused voice.

"It's me, Takashi," Ken stated. Before he could speak more, Takashi interrupted.

"Ah, no wonder I didn't recognize the number! This must be the school's payphone," he went off. "Or is it a friend's cell phone? You did say you've been making more, right?"

"It's the payphone and—I'm trying to talk so shut up for a second," Ken snapped when Takashi tried to interrupt again. "I was calling to ask if I could stay after school for a bit. Daisuke wants me to try playing soccer and I told him I would soon."

"Soccer, huh?" the officer repeated. "I think that's a good idea! Do you know what time you will be leaving? I could come by and pick you up."

"Practice ends at four-thirty," he dully said in return. One of the few things about Ken that had yet to have any significant change was his tone. Mrs. Hiromi said she was going to fix that their next session.

"I'll be there then, might come early so I can watch," Takashi excitedly said, his glow of excitement almost making the phone in Ken's hands look radioactive.

"Yeah, yeah," Ken brushed him off. "Get back to work, you lazy old geezer."

"Get back to your friends," Takashi replied. "Bye."

"Yeah, bye," Ken sighed, replacing the payphone on the hook. He didn't know if he was glad his guardian had allowed him to stay or if he had wanted to be told he couldn't. It didn't matter now, he was given permission.

Sitting next to the overly excited male, he answered before anyone could speak. "He said I could."

"Yay!" the male next to him squealed, throwing himself at the violet-eyed teen and nearly knocking both of them to the ground. "I know you'll just have a ton of fun!"

Visage softening, a small smile crept onto the reclusive male's face. "Yeah, I probably will," he said, tone varying nicely.

"Hey, look! Ken's smiling!" Hikari stated, pointing at the boy whose expression quickly morphed into confusion. Still, the others had seen it and before he knew it several more arms found their way around his body.

"Okay, okay. Hey, that's enough," Ken started, surprised to find himself starting to laugh along with the others. "I-I can't breath."

* * *

The two soccer player in their group had explained the rules of soccer to Ken before they made their way to the field. The plan was to incorporate Ken into a match during practice to see how he would do. Daisuke and Taichi had already begged the couch before hand to let them, and whether he actually thought it was a good idea or he was tired of their whining no one knew, but he agreed. The deal was that if he screwed up practice he would be forced out immediately.

No one had expected him to be as good as he was, though. At first he was against Daisuke (because they had made two teams out of their players), and he managed to stand up to him more than evenly. When put on the same team… their opponents didn't have a chance. By the time everyone was leaving, the couch was begging Ken to join. Chuckling so high it was almost a giggle, Ken agreed to play.

"So did you like it?" Daisuke asked, eager to hear the answer.

"Yeah," Ken replied, inwardly chuckling.

_What's so funny?_

_Just a couple months ago, I wouldn't have understood the question,_ Ken replied.

Practice actually got out half an hour early, and the group sat around a tree while they waited for their rides to show up. As a van drove up, Miyako stood and said, "Hey, I'm having a party after school on Wednesday. Do you think you could all come?" Her eyes fell on Ken, who uncomfortably squirmed. Mostly, 'yes' was chorused, and after he said so, Daisuke looked to Ken expectantly.

"I'm not sure," Ken admitted. "I'll have to ask Takashi about it."

A pout formed on the cinnamon brunette's face, fake tears almost forming in his eyes. "I don't want to go unless Ken does too," he whined.

Ken let out a small chuckle, smiling slightly. "I said I'll ask, okay?"

Still pouting, Daisuke replied, "Alright. And then you can come over to my house for the night! Hey, how about we exchange cell phone numbers so you can text me and tell me, okay?"

"I don't have a cell phone," the younger bluenette replied (**A/N:** I almost forgot about Jyou! He's a bluenette too!).

"You don't have a cell phone?" Hikari piped in, quite surprised. "I thought everyone had a cell phone now-a-days.

"No, I don't. But if you give me your number, I can use Takashi's, most likely," Ken told the, directing the last part to Daisuke.

Smiling, he hurriedly scribbled the number down on torn piece of paper before hurrying to his own ride. The others left soon after, so that only the two bluenettes were left when the police car pulled up. Jyou immediately stood, wondering if his skills in first aid would necessary, since the police just showed up.

Ken stood much less hurriedly. The officer in the car, slowly got out, leaving the door open and turning to rest his arms on the top of the vehicle. "Hurry up, Ken!" he hollered.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming Takashi!" Ken yelled back, gathering up his things. Jyou looked down at him a second, about to ask when Ken spoke up again. "Takashi is my guardian. I'd prefer if you keep this little detail-" he jabbed his thumb towards the police car "-between us, alright?"

"Okay," the doctor-to-be replied, watching with interest as Ken departed.

Sliding into the passenger's seat, the younger male waited until they were several minutes closer to 'home' before he said, "Miyako is having a party at her place after school this Wednesday." He let the pause hang in the air a moment before going on. "May I go?"

Taking his eyes off the road for a second while they were at a light, Takashi turned to face his ward. "I think that's a great idea," he said as they once again were set into motion. "When will you be needing to be picked up?"

"Daisuke offered to let me stay over the night afterwards, so I'd probably go to school with him on Thursday," Ken stated, nervously worrying his lower lip. Was he asking too much?

Takashi nearly choked on thin air at that, his surprise was so great. "That's wonderful, isn't it?" he asked. "You've got such great friends. Anyway, I think it will be a great opportunity for you, so I'm giving you permission."

"Thanks, Takashi," Ken replied, voice genuinely grateful. Retrieving the obnoxious brunette's number from his pocket, he continued, "I should call Daisuke and tell him, can I use your cell?"

"You know where it is," Takashi stated, a smile painted on his face.

It took a minute to dial the number, Ken having to decipher the secret code Daisuke liked to call handwriting first. As it was, he messed up the first time, resulting in a warm flush of his cheeks in embarrassment. "Hello, Daisuke? Yes, this is Ken," he spoke, unaware of how closely his guardian was listening to him. "Yes, I'm fine. Anyway, I was just calling to tell you—no I am not going to ask how you are because it will take you two hours to tell me. As I was saying, Takashi said I can go. I can come over, too." The squeal of joy rang through the vehicle despite Ken's pale hand over the speaker. Once the noise died down, he placed the device back to his ear. "Yes, Daisuke. Yes. Don't you have homework to do? Well go do it or I won't be coming. Okay, bye, Daisuke." Sighing at his friend's eagerness as he closed the phone, Ken couldn't help but smile a little. Putting the phone back, he turned to see Takashi laughing quietly. Scowling, he sat back in his seat ad looked away from the officer.

A few minutes passed before Ken spoke again. "One last thing, Takashi," he started slowly.

"Yes, Ken?" the older man asked.

"Can I have a cell phone?"

* * *

Chapter done! Hope you liked it. Finally starting to normally show that Ken is getting better.

This chapter was actually shorter thanI wanted it to be, but there's not much I can do about that. The original was longer, but it included a soccer scene that was probably totally wrong so I removed it and replaced it with the much shorter one...


	10. Chapter 9: The Party

With this posted, only five more chapters to go! That means that soon everyone who is reading this will have the full story, and I will have one less story to worry about.

I would like the thank everyone who has read/reviewed/favorited/alerted this story so far. I would list names, but I have literally kept every fanfiction email, so I'd have over 300 messages to go through to figure out which ones were for this story, and which ones were repeated people, and I just don't have the patience to do that. So, instead, I hope everyone will be content with this big **THANK YOU** and an invisible, virtual Ken plushie.

I have been waiting for this chapter forever, and I'm glad I finally got to it. The next one, I can guarentee, will be even better, though maybe not longer. Iwent overboard on this one, the actual chapter being 3000 words. I try to keep them 2000 minimum, just so you know, so that it is actually worth taking your time to wait and read.

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

* * *

**Chapter 9: The Party**

Getting Daisuke to shut up would have been an impossible task, Ken realized, so he didn't even try. The brunette seemed just as eager to get to Miyako's party as he normally was about soccer, only more so since the recluse himself was coming as well. His rants went off on impossible tangents of the games that would most likely be played and how much fun they would have. When asked which type of cake he liked best and Ken replied with, "I've never eaten cake," Daisuke nearly exploded from shock.

"What do you mean you've never had cake?" the brunette asked for possibly the thousandth time.

"Quite simply what it means," Ken replied, quite bored of the situation by name. "I've never had it."

"Never had what?" a chipper voice asked, coming up behind them. Turning, the two boys were greeted by the bobbing purple head of Miyako as she ran to catch up to them.

"Cake!" Daisuke answered, throwing his arms wide and waving them like a child desperate for attention. "Ken said he has never eaten cake before!"

A strange expression came over the girl's features, some mix between mock awe and frightened shock. "That's just criminal!" she said after several seconds where her eyes just seemed to get bigger (which were already magnifies by her glasses). "We will fix that up at my party! Ken will get the biggest piece! No, _I'll_ get the biggest piece and share it with Ken!" she decided.

"What? But I wanted to share a piece with Ken," Daisuke argued, puffing his cheeks out in a pout that almost sent Ken chuckling.

"But you _can't_, Daisuke," Miyako stated matter-of-factly, hands placed on her hips and nose high in the air.

"And why can't I?" Daisuke shot back, standing taller. Somewhere between the lines Ken read that this was all a game, so he just leaned back against the wall and let them dish it out. School was over anyway, so it wasn't like they had a class to get to.

"Because you're a _boy_," she replied, emphasizing his gender. As if that mattered to Daisuke. A sudden thought dawned on him, brought on by an old-ish memory (if you count ones from when he first met Daisuke 'old').

"Um," Ken's soft voice cut in, effectively blocking whatever comeback Daisuke would have had. For that, the boy was thankful, because who knew what true argument he was going to start? "Do you ride the bus?" the violet-eyed teen asked. "Because if you do, shouldn't we be heading to it by now?" His hand directed them to the clock, showing they had already wasted several minutes.

"Oh no! We're gonna miss it!" the girl yelled, quickly grabbing Ken's wrist and dragging him away, leaving Daisuke to run after them once the shock dissipated.

"Hey, no fair! Why'd you grab Ken's arm but not mine?" he yelled, keeping a good pace that slowly brought him closer to his friends. "You're nothing but an evil witch." His complaint was obviously a joke, based on the whine in his tone, and the two teens ahead of him only laughed at how pathetic he sounded.

* * *

They heard several gasps and whispers as they got on, many eyes looking almost frightened-like at the bluenette. As much as his change in behavior the passed couple months had spread, it appeared his reputation still dominated, and few were comfortable being too close to him. He tried to ignore the few words he did hear, but found that as the days went on it became increasingly more difficult, and left a bad taste in his mouth. Then the obnoxious teen beside him would go off on something and the feeling would be pushed down.

It wasn't a long ride to Miyako's house, and Ken wondered why she didn't simply walk to school. When he asked her, she replied with, "but it's a fifteen minute walk," in a really high-pitched, whiney voice. He figured it would be best not to tell her it took him over half an hour to walk to school, and he still did it everyday.

The outside of the house looked grand, and the purple-haired girl wasted no time in telling her guests (the others except for Taichi and Yamato rode the bus with them. The afore mentioned took Yamato's truck) about how great her life was, how her mother got filthy rich playing with the stocks and her dad got a lucky break on a novel, that sold all-too-well. Of course, most of the people there already knew that, so she was mostly explaining it to Ken and Daisuke. Mostly Ken.

Practically prancing, she made her way up the grand stair, leading the other to her room, where most of the games would be played. It was decorated with pink walls, the latest 'new good bad' posters on the walls. A king sized bed was pushed into a corner, barely taking up any room in the large space. Shelves along the walls held an assortment of stuffed animals, some rare collector's items. And to finish it off, a forty-two inch, flat screen TV was positioned on a stand to be seen from the bed, the latest system models placed neatly on the shelves underneath it with a large variety of games.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, arms open wide as she turned around to bat her eyelashes at Ken.

One thing the ex-assassin-in-training did know was that houses this size were not common. It awed him that she had it, don't doubt, but he did not like it. To him, his small 'room' that fit a small bed in half, a dresser, and enough room to change clothes, was enough space. To have this much room for just one person… "It's too much," he said calmly.

"I know, it is amazing isn't it?" she asked, clasping her hands together and giving him heart eyes. "You're so in awe you're speechless."

"No, I was meaning there is too much space," Ken said. "I would hate living in a place like this." Everyone froze for a second and just looked at him, Miyako's lovestruckness disappearing into hurt. "I don't even understand the importance of half the items you have in here."

"W-well… um…" she started, trying to find the words to explain it. The doorbell saved her. "Th-that must be Taichi and Yamato. I'll go answer the door."

Once she left, Daisuke turned on him. "What did you do that for?" he growled, shocking the bluenette who had found the soccer player extremely difficult to displease.

"Sh-she asked what I thought," Ken stuttered, trying to defend himself. "I was only answering her."

"You could have been a bit nicer about it," Daisuke grumbled, giving Ken one last glare before he went and sat down. To be honest, the confused bluenette had no clue what he had done wrong.

The main problem (AKA Miyako) came back in a moment later, the two older boys in tow. "I have a great idea!" she exclaimed, holding an empty soda bottle in her hand. "Everyone sit in a circle. Let's play spin the bottle!"

Taking a seat across from Daisuke, for fear the brunette was still angry at him, Ken shifted a little nervously. He wanted to ask what spin the bottle was, but everyone else seemed to know it, and he was finding an unfamiliar emotion welling up. He didn't know how to ask because he figured he would sound stupid. The blonde beside him discrete leaned over, whispering in his ear, "You spin the bottle on the floor, and whoever it lands on you have to kiss, boy or girl. Then it's that person's turn." Jumping slightly, he turned his head to meet Yamato's eyes, giving him a small nod as a thank you before looking back to the item that was already in motion. Someone must have already spun it, and it slowly stopped until it was pointing at him. He didn't need to ask whose turn it was; the squeal told him enough.

Eyes shining with elation, the purple-haired girl crawled on her hands and knees over to her victim until she was practically in his lap. Sitting up, she gently, _softly_, reached a hand behind his head, slowly pulling his face closer to hers. Closing her eyes, she leaned in the last half-inch, tilting her head slightly to avoid bumping noses, and held him there for several seconds, her free hand verily lightly gripping his right sleeve. Several whistles were heard from the small crowd, mostly from Takeru and Hikari

Slowly opening her eyes, the girl leaned out of the kiss, pink tinting her cheeks. Ken, though, was completely unfazed. If this is what the game entailed, he wasn't sure he would stay in long. A slight nudge in his side caught his attention, reminding him it was his turn to spin the empty bottle. Giving it a half-hearted spin, he sat back and watched it, waiting for it to stop so he could get through with his turn and sit back for, hopefully, the rest of the game. Fallowing the streamline of the body, he nearly gulped when he realized who it had landed on; Daisuke. His fear was simply that he wasn't sure if his best friend was still angry at him. Mentally scolding himself for his fear, he leaned forward onto his hands and knees to crawl across the space.

Now, of course, Ken had absolutely _no idea_ how to kiss someone. It's not like he ever took an interest in that, and he wasn't taught it as a nine-year-old assassin-to-be. So, of course, he followed the only example he had, and that was Miyako's kiss from a moment before. So, just as slow, just as _sensually_ as Miyako had, he pulled Daisuke's face closer, leaning in for the last bit. Expecting the same bleakness of the last kiss, he was caught completely unprepared when something else happened instead. A sweet, fluttery feeling rose in his chest, a heat carried on something as fragile as butterfly wings. His heart skipped a beat before speeding up to make up for its mistake. Whatever had just taken residence in his stomach decided it wanted to migrate, and the heat traveled up to his face, coloring it a similar shade to what Miyako's had been. Pulling away sooner than the girl had, he found the breath coming almost hard to his chest, and quickly, too quickly, scuttled back to his place, the same feeling from when he didn't want to ask the question mixing with the warmth.

"Embarrassed, are you?" Yamato whispered, surprised at the confused look on Ken's face. The musician had to admit, that boy was interesting. It seemed he didn't understand his own feelings.

* * *

After playing spin the bottle for an hour (with Ken finding he only reacted to Daisuke), they had a Xbox 360 marathon that Ken ultimately won, followed by ice cream, cake, and presents. Ken decided he really liked cake.

As it got later, though, everyone began to leave. A few of them had to get rides from their parents, but most lived close enough to walk, since Miyako's house was on the outskirts of the rich district (her parents thought it would be best if she was close to normal people). Gathering up his things, which consisted only of a backpack with an extra pair of clothes and whatever books were in it, Ken waved goodbye to Miyako, thanking her for a good time, and headed out the door with Daisuke.

"Stupid Jun," the brunette complained almost instantly after they closed the door. "Just because she had a date with some guy she couldn't come over to pick us up. Dumb sister."

"You don't even know the guy's name?" Ken asked, almost the information-centric.

"Ah, I think it was Luke. Some guy in a rival band to Yamato," the soccer player recalled. "Hey, do you have any siblings?"

The question caught him off guard. Sure, Daisuke had asked him about his family before, but after the first couple times he saw how uncomfortable Ken was about the subject and dropped it. Now, though, Ken didn't know how to answer. _Does_ he have an siblings? No. _Did_ he have any siblings? Yes. Worrying his lower lip while thinking, he said the only thing that made sense to him, "Not any more."

Daisuke's smile fell. "What happened?" he asked carefully, treading in dangerous waters.

"He died six years ago," Ken stated simply, no hint of remorse in his voice. He didn't know his brother well enough to feel sad that he was dead.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up," Daisuke said, but after seeing Ken's shrug of indifference, decided to tread on. "How did your parents handle it."

"I don't have parents," he stated, just as easily as he had about his brother's condition. "They died before my brother did."

"But… Takashi. You've had to ask him about things before, right?" the boy asked, finding the subject more heart wrenching to him than the teen who had to go through it all.

"He's my guardian, took care of me since I was nine," the bluenette said, cheering up a bit. He really did owe Takashi a lot, and just like Daisuke, that idiot grew on you after a time.

The formerly mentioned idiot was about to respond when a loud screech and a sickening crunch echoed at the crosswalk. Several heads turned to take in the scene. A vehicle, car, looked to be a Chevy model, stopped in the middle of the street, an obvious dent in the hood and front bumper. A person, male, around thirty to thirty-five years of age, laying on the road, face down, a pool of red, blood, collecting around his torso and head. Quite simply, the car had run a red light, or the guy had tried to cross thinking it clear, and there was an accident. Ambulance sirens could already be heard in the far distance.

Terrified of the scene before him, Daisuke helplessly clutched onto Ken's sleeve, unable to avert his gaze from the possibly dead body. The bluenette, though, was unbothered by it, and couldn't quite grasp the gravity of Daisuke's emotions. The only thing he could grab on to was that this was not a good place to keep the traumatized boy, and he moved so he blocked Daisuke's view of it. "I think we should get to your place," he said calmly, receiving a stiff nod from the other teen.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and it took Daisuke several hours to get back to something resembling his old self. He would be going to counseling for a few days because of this.

* * *

_He had fallen asleep at Daisuke's place, this he knew for sure. He had decided to climb in bed with the other male to comfort him since he still had not gotten passed what happened previously. Now, though, he was at the bottom of that same scaffolding he remembered from last time, the same room with the tall statue and the teenage boy working on destroying it._

_There was the signature _tink! tink! _of the boy at work, and Ken made his way towards the sound and the single light in the room. "Daisuke," he said as he approached, announcing his presence although it was unnecessary. The brunette had already turned to greet him, wiping sweat bead from his forehead and sitting down his pickaxe for a second. There was no need to introduce himself, for this Daisuke always knew when he was present._

_"Hello, Ken," Daisuke said, smiling just like the other Daisuke. "It's been a while since I last saw you."_

_"Not all that long," Ken replied, coming over to examine the destruction. "You know, you still haven't explained how this is supposed to help me."_

_"Almost, Ken, almost," the dream Daisuke stated, picking his tool back up and hitting the edges of the crevice several times. As the methodic _tink! tink!_ once again filled the room, Ken looked at the damage closer. Several long cracks ran up into the distance, disappearing into the darkness so only his imagination could tell him how far they actually went. The crevice Daisuke was working on was almost passed large enough for a person to fit through, yet he still found himself fearful to actually move the few steps forwards to peer inside._

_A loud _crack!_ startled the teen, causing his to jump back as he watched a new crack rising up into the distance. There was the sound of something breaking, several small, pebble-like rock falling from somewhere close to the top, and then the distinct sound of wide resistance on something much larger than a stone. A loud _bang!_ echoed, the ex-assassin-in-training covering his ringing ears. It took a moment for the noise to die down, and only then did Ken try to figure out what had just happened. Looking to Daisuke, he saw that the hole had opened up a good deal more, but there was too much debris for it to be just from the hole. That could only mean part of the upper statue had broken off, showering them with stone, and the loud bang he heard was most probably the top._

_The dream Daisuke grabbed his work lamp, and motioned for Ken to follow. Obediently tailing the other male, he was not prepared for what awaited him around the corner. The statue was of a person, and now he stared right into his own face, only ten times larger and made of stone._

* * *

Static.

"It has just been released that the police's only possible lead to the Ace's Assassin Guild, an assassin from the Queen of Spade's branch by the name of Osamu, has been murdered while in police custody. So far there are no leads as to the perpetrator, but many believe it was an inside job."

Static.

* * *

Yay! That last bit was just like the first one, fuzzy TV screen with basically just dialogue. I can inform everyone there will be only two more statue scenes, one of which is in the next chapter, and the other in the Epilogue. Look for to **Chapter 10: Love**!

See you all next time!


	11. Chapter 10: Love

Yes, another chapter done! I have envisioned this chaper for MONTHS now, and I just love Ken's reaction in the first section. I added the talk about death (not originally planned) because I felt like if i didn't this first section (and the entire chapter) would be too short. It is 3888 words... I don't think it's too short (sicne I aim for at least 2000). I like the addition the talk about death gives, though.

I would like to say I am extremely happy with all the reviews I have gotten with this (the most I have for one story, 38), and would like to think everyone who has.

Also, to **enigmaecstatic**: you get your wish. I found a way to weasel in Daisuke seeing Ken's 'house' that fits perfectly into the story.

There is a good deal of psychological and metaphorical aspects to the last scene. If you would like an explanation I will be willing to give you one, just send me a message. I'm not explaining it here for those who would like to figure it out themselves.

Fanfiction . net was _**REALLY **_screwing up when I was trying to edit this, and it was **_REALLY_** starting to piss me off. I was _this close_ *holds up two fingers with almost no space left between them* to just saying, "Screw this," and going to bed. If the title really is on the left and not centered like usual, it is because the fucking thing would not stay centered, no matter **_HOW HARD_** I tried. I don't normally have this problem, but it sure is liking me right now.

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

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**Chapter 10: Love**

Most of their talks over the past few weeks had merely been idle chat. Ken would ask a few questions occasionally, but it was generally simple conversation, or practice of such. So, when Ken came in grim-faced, Naomi knew something was off. Her characteristic greeting with Takashi was short, wanting to get back to the teenager as soon as possible. The police officer seemed to understand, and informed her that he would be a bit late to pick Ken up. Nodding sweetly, she closed the door quickly and took a seat next to her charge. "Is something the matter?" she asked slowly, trying not to scare the question deeper into Ken's subconscious.

The bluenette did not respond for several minutes, as if he was trying to determine an answer for himself before he answered her. "Sort of," he replied finally, looking up and over at her. Confused violet met understanding hazel, and a small smile spread on the former's face. "Is death really such a tragic thing?" he asked.

"Death, huh?" Mrs. Hiromi replied with a question. Somehow, she knew their talks would lead to this one day. "I guess as an assassin you are taught not to fear it, but to many it is more frightening than any other fear. It is saddening as well, for it takes away the ones we care about most, and there is nothing we can do to fight it. In the end, it will take us all."

The violet-eyed teen was looking at the floor again, and she held her words for a moment, letting him think. To her surprise, he readily revealed his reason behind the inquiry. "We were at the riverside accident."

"We?" Naomi asked, though she already as a guess as to who 'we' was.

"Daisuke and myself," Ken stated, still locking gazes with the floor. "I don't get it, the tragedy of death. As you said, it happens to everyone. You can't escape it; it will take you in the end. But Daisuke… He looked so helpless. In that instant, it was like he wasn't Daisuke anymore." Slight tremors began to wrack his limbs, and Ken gripped them in an attempt to get them to stop. "He wasn't in it, but it hurt him. Just like when I told him how all my family was dead. It was like I lost Daisuke."

"You were scared," the councilor said immediately. "You were scared you'd never get Daisuke back." Ken once again looked to her, an expression of shock on his face. Was that really it? Was the reason he had this feeling now because he was afraid? Not of death, but of losing Daisuke. "Look, Ken, there are two main reasons people fear death. The first one is because nobody wants to die. Every person on this planet has things they want to do, and if they die then they can't do that. They fear being unable to complete those tasks. They also don't want to die because no one really knows what is after death, and many fear it could be nothing.

"The second reason… well, you are feeling the second reason right now; loss. The fear of death is the same as the fear of losing someone. It can also be the fear of making someone lose someone," she explained. "If Daisuke suddenly vanished, and you could never see him again, would you feel sad?" she asked.

There was a slight pause, a short silence where Ken studied the question. "Yes," he replied. "I would probably cry."

"Then you already fear death," she said. "You fear losing him, and death would steal your friend away." Slowly, understanding began to seep into his features. At his nod, the redheaded woman leaned back into the couch cushions, letting Ken go and breathing out a sigh of relief.

Giving him a mischievous smile, she asked, "I heard you had fun yesterday. Could you tell me what happened?"

Ken immediately cheered up, a behavioral change Naomi realize transpired whenever the teenager could be diverted to conversations of his friends. "We (it almost always meant 'him and Daisuke') went to this girl, Miyako's, place for her birthday party. It was way too big for my tastes, but she seemed to get upset when I told her that. We played games on something called an Xbox 360, and I think everyone let me win. We also had cake, that was really good."

"What kind of cake?" Naomi asked, smiling as she rested her elbows on her knees, palms up to hold her head as she leaned forward.

"Chocolate with vanilla frosting. It tasted really sweet, and the chocolate was richer than the hot chocolate I normally get on the way home from school," the boy said.

"What other games did you plan, other than the Xbox 360?" Naomi asked, trying to get more emotion from the recovering teen.

"Huh? Oh, a couple others," Ken replied, pulled from his memory of cake. Just remembering it was starting to make him drool. "We played hide-and-seek for about fifteen minutes before Yamato complained about the lack of hiding places for the older participants like himself. And we played a really peculiar game before the Xbox 360 marathon. I think they called it spin the bottle." Naomi perked up at that. "It was pretty odd. All you did was spin a bottle on the carpet and kiss whoever it landed on." The bluenette was looking down a bit, brows lightly drawn together. "Everyone seemed to enjoy it, though Taichi literally growled whenever someone landed on Yamato; they're together, by the way. I didn't really get it. I mean, what is the point of a kiss?"

His question was accompanied by a memory, the sweet feeling of Daisuke's lips on his own. Those butterflies seemed to awaken in his stomach again, and his face began to heat up. Naomi was about to answer him when she noticed the red tinting his cheeks, and straightened a little more in confusing. Was Ken blushing? "Is something wrong?"

"I-it's nothing really," the teenager stuttered, suddenly extremely interested in the floor. "I mean, it's just that I felt weird whenever I kissed Daisuke. It didn't happen when Miyako kissed me, or Hikari did, or when I kissed Takeru. But when I kissed Daisuke, I suddenly became like this. My skin heated up and I became really nervous, and it was kind of difficult to breathe." Naomi might have laughed at the situation, but she figured it wasn't the best for Ken's perplexed mind.

"Look, I think I-" she started to explain, but was cut off by Ken's outburst.

"He must have poisoned me!" the ex-assassin-in-training yelled, vaulting to his feet. "That has to be it! He got close to me so I would trust him so he could poison me! That is the only explanation for my symptoms. How could I have been so stu-"

The bluenette was cut off this time, startled by the hand that quickly yanked him back to the couch. "Calm down, Ken," she spoke quickly, trying to get some semblance of a sentence in before he went off again. "I think I know what's happening and it isn't poison." Ken's mouth, which had been half-open in the beginning of a protest, stopped and slowly closed.

"Then what is it?" he asked after a moment.

"I can't say for certain, but I'm pretty much sure it is that," she started.

"It is what?" he shouted, not appreciating the mind games. Some part of him realized he still thought it was poison, and that same part was afraid he would die.

"I think you might be in love with him," Naomi stated.

"In… love?" Ken asked, looking at her as if asking 'is that a type of poison.'

"Look, you said Taichi and Yamato are together, right?" she asked. Receiving a quick nod, she continued, "That is what love is, or at least like. Love is an emotion, when you like something a lot."

"An emotion? Like happy?" he asked, trying to grasp at his situation.

"Yes, like happy," Naomi chuckled, kind of amused at the simple nature of Ken's reasoning. "It is strong, and it can keep people together forever. What is between me and my husband, and we have been together for years now, is love."

"What can I do to control it?" Ken asked after a moment of silence.

"It's not something to be contained," Naomi replied. "It can not be controlled, or tamed. Some people learn to hide it, while others hold it out on their sleeve. It is a strong emotion, and a good sign. If you have come to love, I don't think you have to worry about being unable to recover." She got a smile out of that, and couldn't help grin in return.

A thought popped into Ken's head, and it showed on his face. "Hey, could we go to the pier and get ice cream?" he asked. "I had that at Miyako's party, too, and liked it."

Chuckling lightly, Naomi stood and made her way towards her desk. "I don't think that will be a problem. Just let me call Takashi first."

* * *

Daisuke had been unable to concentrate for a while now, not that that was unusual. No, the more unusual thing was that he was unable to concentrate on _not_ concentrating on something. Every instant where he let his mind go it would stray to Ken. He had slightly noticed it before, like back when they had been friends for a few weeks, but now it was becoming hard to miss. And thinking about Ken led to thinking about Miyako's party, and that horrid game of spin the bottle. Yeah, Daisuke had been questioning his sexuality since… well… ever. Now, though, he was questioning his true attraction to his best friend. He could not deny the pleasure he felt at kissing the bluenette, and the lack-thereof with Hikari (who he thought he had a crush on but never pursued because she was already involved). Thinking about it did little to help, except making him realize all the little things about Ken that he _liked_. There was the shy smile that he would hide behind his bangs, the cold look in his eyes that was slowly melting, the fact that he was the reason that icy nature was dissolving.

Grumbling for the umpteenth time, Daisuke's head crashed into a pillow, before it shot back up, a blush on his cheeks. He was the reason Ken was getting better. Could that mean…?

"Will you shut up already?" Jun yelled, startling the teenager who was lying on the couch. "Look, if I go bring you to get some ice cream will you stop grumbling long enough for me to finish my homework so I can go on a date with Luke tonight?"

"Ice cream?" Daisuke cheered, jumping up immediately. "Okay, let's go!" Sighing in defeat, Jun merely snatched up her keys as Daisuke drug her out the door.

* * *

Now, neither had expected to see the other at that ice cream shop. Ken was already inside almost at the counter and with a couple customers behind him when the jingle of the door opening again rang through the shop. Daisuke gazed lovingly up at the menu board, a trail of drool already starting at the corner of his mouth when Jun jolted him out of his trance. "Is that Ken?" she asked. At her brother's head frantically swiveling around to locate the other teen, she pointed straight ahead to the boy who obviously looked confused at the huge selection of flavors.

"It is Ken," Daisuke confirmed, nearly sprinting to tell his friend which type was the best.

"I think you would like the cookie dough one, Ken," Naomi said, stopping Daisuke in his tracks. "And you like chocolate, right? So you can have them put those in it," the woman continued, pointing to the chocolate flakes.

She looked to be in her early twenties, and her dress looked quite casual (well, kind of sensual) because she felt that wearing some sort of uniform detached a person from their patient. To Daisuke's eyes, though, she looked a lot closer than just a councilor. Had he not just heard that Ken had no family he might have guessed that she was his mother, or maybe a sister. But could she be a lover? That though sent a sharp pain through his heart, one he could no deny.

"Uh, Daisuke?" Ken asked, shock clearly in his voice. That name caught Naomi's attention, and she looked away from the employee making her ice cream for a second.

Snapping out of it, Daisuke replaced that overbearing grin on his face again. "Hi Ken!" he cheered, startling the other teenager into almost dropping his treat.

Naomi approached now, a kind smile on her face. "So you are Daisuke?' she asked. "I have heard a lot about you, and I should really thank you. Ah, I could get you some ice cream, if You wanted."

Looking back to Ken's companion, the soccer player tried to determine just who she might be to the bluenette again. Coming up with nothing, he turned back to Ken and asked, "Um, who exactly is this?"

Swallowing the melting ice cream in his mouth, Ken said, "That's right I didn't tell you. Daisuke, this is Naomi. She is my councilor."

"Councilor?" the cinnamon-brunette asked, surprise peppering his tone.

"Yeah," she replied. "I have been working with Ken for six years now, and it wasn't until after he met you that I could make any progress. Now, are we just going to stand here or am I going to get you something?"

"Oh, right. Um… Jun brought me here to get something… but I don't think she'll mind not having to pay," he said.

"Just hurry up so I can get back to my work," she sighed. "Good to see you again, Ken," she added as she went to sit down.

After ordering, the other three joined her, chatting about random things and laughing at one of the teenagers' expense. It was only after they had finished, and at Jun's complaint that they were taking too long, that Ken's expression turned thoughtful and grim. Before Naomi could ask, Ken spoke up, "Could I borrow your cell phone?"

"Sure Ken, what's the matter?" she asked, retrieving the slim item from her purse.

He didn't answer, but instead mechanically dialed a familiar number and waited for the owner to pick up. "Hello. No, it's me, Ken. Yeah, I was wondering something. Could Daisuke come over for a bit?" he asked, and it was only then that Naomi realized Ken had called Takashi. His behavior was out of worry. "Yeah, thank you."

Handing the phone back, the bluenette turned to Daisuke and said, "Takashi said you could come over for a bit, but not too long. Just call your parents first, and if you need a ride back he can take you."

"Really? That's great!" Daisuke cheered, pulling his phone out of his pocket so fast he actually dropped it. After the okay from his parents, he practically pushed Jun out the door, his older sister all-too-willing to leave.

He had so many fantastic ideas about what Ken's guardian was like, you could only imaging his surprise when a police officer waltzed into the Cold Stone they were in. "Hi Naomi, Ken, and you must be Daisuke," he said, taking the boy's hand and giving it a few good shakes. "Well, come on. We must be going. Oh, and Ken, here. You said you wanted one." Taking a new phone from his pocket, Takashi placed it in Ken's hand.

"Thanks, Takashi," Ken replied, giving the older man a kind smile and having to keep the new device out of his best friend's clutches. Yes, Daisuke only wanted to program his number into it, but with the clumsy teen's luck he would drop it, or trip, or something and break it.

The ride back was an unusually loud one for Takashi, since he was only used to having Ken in the police cruiser (unless he had to haul someone in). Most of the noise was coming from Daisuke, and it wasn't hard for the officer to tell why the bordering-on-obnoxious teenager had been allowed to get close to the ever-reclusive Ken; Daisuke had a personality that could not be hated.

"Do you get to stay at the police station until Takashi gets off work?" the brunette asked as they pulled to a stop in front of the building. Ken was silent, though, and didn't answer. Peeling his eyes away from the window, he turned around to see the bluenette's shameful expression.

"Come on, you two," Takashi hollered, tapping his fist on the window. "Get out of the car."

Ken sent Daisuke a soft smile, gathering up his things (which only consisted of his phone) and stepped out. Daisuke followed agitated, cheek puffed out in irritation. Why did Ken feel like he had to hide things all the time?

"Hey Yuma!" Takashi said, holding a hand up in greeting.

"Hello Yamura," Ken said as well, passing by the two. "We'll be in my room, can you make lunch _without_ burning the kitchen to the ground?" There was an agitated response from the kitchen, something that sounded like 'that was only one time.' What confused Daisuke, though, was Ken's talk of going to his room.

The cell was the furthest one from the door, backed up against two walls and an empty cell. Blankets were hung heavily on the side facing other prisoners from the teenager's privacy, since that had become his home. Stepping into the small space, Ken turned around to face Daisuke (who was standing in the 'door'way, and said, "Welcome to home."

"You… live in this cell?" he asked, clearly amazed, though not necessarily in a good way.

"Yeah," he replied, moving over and sitting on the bed. "Been here since I was nine, when my parents were killed."

"Why?" was the inevitable question, and Ken looked away in shame. The thought that maybe Ken had killed his parents crossed the brunette's mind, but some small voice in the back of his head told him that wasn't it.

One minute turned into two, and two into five, and still nothing was said. Daisuke was starting to shift nervously and bite his lip when Ken asked, "Could we just leave it at, 'to keep me from running away'."

Daisuke almost let out a sigh of relief for there was no obvious lie in Ken's tone. Sure, Ken could still have been lying, but as with before, some little voice was telling him that his friend was being truthful. "Yeah, we can leave it at that," the brunette said, one of his smaller, genuine smiles on him lips. "I'm just glad you finally trusted me."

Tanned arms wrapped around his neck, a bushy head of hair nearly jabbing him in the eye as Daisuke rested his head on the ex-assassin's shoulder. A great weight seemed to lift off Ken's shoulders, and that familiar warmth rose from the pit of his stomach. _Love, huh?_ he asked, wondering if dream Daisuke was listening in. Closing his eyes, he certainly hoped so.

Daisuke stayed until after dinner, which Ken made, and then Takashi drove him home. His parents flipped, and it took Takashi five minutes to convince them their son wasn't in trouble. They apologized profusely afterwards for the scene they caused.

* * *

_When he entered the dream world this time, there was not _tink! tink!_ to greet him. For several seconds, he wondered if he was even in the same place. It was unmistakable, though, what with the decapitated head of stone resting not a couple meters from him in a nest of wood. Half of the scaffolding had collapsed when the statue's head fell, the boulder breaking the wooden supports. The bottom, about third, of it was still in tact and able to be ascended, and there was a lone, unstable piece on the other side, with no way to get to it, but the middle was taken out._

_Taking in the center of the room, he saw Daisuke, sitting on a pile of rocks and waving him over, miner's lamp hung on a pole. As he approached, Ken could see the pickaxe lying against the mound Daisuke sat on, most of which had been removed from the cleft the brunette had been making._

"_Taking a break?" Ken asked, looking from the brunette to the fissure in the statue's base._

"_Nope, I'm done for now," Daisuke said. There was the sound of stones shifting, and Ken didn't need to look to realize the dream Daisuke had stood and was moving towards him. "Come," he commanded, stepping passed the bluenette and taking his lamp from its post. The reclusive teen watched curiously as Daisuke moved to the gap, standing just to one side of the center. "Come on, look."_

_Swallowing some sort of irrational fear, Ken cautiously stepped forward until he was even with Daisuke. The brunette grinned at him, and again motioned to the pitch blackness, holding the lamp up a little higher._

_Slowly, Ken turned his gaze to the crevice, and the unknown inside. To his surprise, he saw a light on the other side, and a person, it seemed. He was about to turn and face Daisuke when he realized that person _was_ Daisuke._

_In the moment he had peered in, he was transferred inside the statue. "Stop with the projections. I think it's time you truly come out of your shell," Daisuke said, free hand outstretched._

_Ken was about to get up from his knees when he realized that he was already standing. For some reason, Daisuke was a lot taller than he should be. He didn't want to be in the dark, though, so he ran for that hand and grabbed onto it in desperation._

"_There, there," the brunette cooed, gently pulling the brunette through the opening. "It's okay."_

_There was a mirror positioned right across from where Daisuke had been working, and violet eyes stared into it, and watched in awe. He wasn't shrunk, as he had thought, he was younger. Maybe six or seven, and as Daisuke pulled him from the statue that had once been his mask he grew, changing from a child into a teenager, the Ken he saw every day._

"_It's good to finally see you," Daisuke said, pulling Ken into a hug._

"_What do you mean?" the ex-assassin-in-training asked._

"_Whenever you were here before I couldn't see you."_

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This is the last statue scene until the epilogue.


	12. Chapter 11: Yellow

Next chapter up! Only three more to go! The last section of this chapter is surprisingly lacking details, and that is because I figured I'd ruin it if I tried because it would pretty much be utter choas, and was better to do it the way I did.

Now, the title for this actually comes from one of my favorite yaoi manga series, called Yellow. The title comes from the colors of a stop light, with green meaning forward, red meaning stop, and yellow meaning risky, or a warning of danger. The two characters in it are drug snatchers, so all their jobs are yellow. The title for this chapter means the same thing; risky.

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

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**Chapter 11: Yellow**

Things had gone better than he had planned, a lot better. Daisuke hadn't been as inquisitive as the reclusive teen had expected, settling with minute, basic details and not asking for the whole, drawn out storyline. It did much to ease out Ken's worries, and solidify his belief that he could truly live a normal life. One day he would have to tell the cinnamon-brunette the entire truth, but a little voice in his head was reassuring him that Daisuke would take it in stride.

What he didn't realize was that day was a lot closer than he thought.

Several miles away in a park, the athlete was playing soccer with some of the local kids. The weather was starting to warm up, spring peeking around the corner, and they were having a particularly sunny day. The warmth on his tanned skin was revitalizing, and Daisuke ad taken the weekend opportunity to spend it doing the thing he loved most; playing soccer. With that thought a solitary figure materialized in his mind's eye, causing his cheeks to darken and his foot the miss the ball. Several players laughed as his mistake caused him to step on the ball and subsequently fall on his face. The muddy field helped cool his face, and hide his embarrassment.

Getting up and making sure to keep that grin on his face, Daisuke said, "I should get home and clean up. Mom is probably going to get pissed at me already for getting my clothes dirty."

"Okay, see you Daisuke!" one of the local boys hollered, waving. Several others chorused in, watching him leave for just a second before returning to their match.

Daisuke stopped once he was out of sight, letting his mind wonder its desired path. The violet-eyed bluenette had been invading his thoughts more and more as of late, and Daisuke wasn't too stupid to understand what that meant. He always knew he was curious, but never really gave much thought to being gay. He had been too worried about getting people to like him, not that it was hard. Now, though, that had shifted from people to Ken. Ever since that dare with Shion his mind had revolved around plans of making Ken his friend. That, too, had now shifted to getting Ken to like him back. There was no denying it; he was attracted to the troubled teen.

Feeling the mud dry on his skin and begin to itch reminded him that he needed to get home. If he was lucky he could sneak passed his mother and sister and deposit the soiled garments in the laundry basket before they noticed him. Of course, they would learn it was him when they went to wash the clothes, but it would be too late to berate him for it by then.

He was in mid-stride when the object hit him. The swift blow to the stomach with a metal bar was enough to knock the wind out of him, and Daisuke collapsed to his knees. A menacing chuckle sounded from overhead, and the still winded teenager tried to look up at his assailant. He managed to see two pairs of legs before a fist connected with his jaw. "So you're the punk who's been causing us trouble?" a voice asked, grabbing Daisuke by the hair and lifting his head. This allowed the brunette to see a third pair of legs on his other side. A foot caught him in the back, the person holding onto his hair releasing him so he could fall harshly to the sidewalk. The guy then blocked the athlete's view of his face by resting his foot on Daisuke's cheek. "Don't worry, we'll make sure you live," the same guy said, grinding the toe of his shoe into Daisuke's cheekbone. "Just gotta rough you up a bit, make you look all pretty with blacks and blues. Gotta make sure to give him the message."

The sound of a switchblade came from behind him, the captive teen feeling a cold fear freezing his spine. The cold metal seemed scorching on his neck, the flat of the blade pressed into his skin. The sharp edge left a thin line where it touched, just deep enough to cut a few surface vessels without any real harm being done. "Listen, boy, we got nothing against you," a second person said in his ear. "This is just to protect ourselves; I hope you won't blame us." The blade dug through his shirt sleeve, grazing his arm from shoulder to elbow; a shallow cut like the one on his neck. The same guy outright laughed as the third assailant again sent his boot into the boy's stomach.

The foot on his face finally moved, but Daisuke was too worried about protecting his stomach to try looking at their faces again. Besides, it would most likely end in more injuries. A folded piece of paper fluttered down next to his nose. "Be sure to give that to Ken next time you see him."

The three people were long gone by the time Daisuke managed to get to his feet, note in hand. His attackers had chosen the perfect time, for no one was around to witness the act. Leaning against a light post, he curiously unfolded the paper. Symbols were lined up on it, as if some secret code, and he couldn't understand it. "Ken… What have you gotten into?" he asked the empty street, staring forlornly at the now-cloudy sky.

Stumbling, he made his way back to his house. Blood had dried from the wounds on his neck and arm, bruises forming on his cheek and chin. His injuries were enough to keep him out of trouble for messing up his clothes, not that it was much consolation. After a shower, antibiotics and bandages placed on his arm and neck, Daisuke went to be without dinner. What he needed was sleep, and time to think things over.

* * *

Ken was shocked at his best friend's appearance the next day at school. His face was bruised, his neck was bandaged, and judging by the stiffness in his limb, so was his right arm. He also wouldn't meet Ken's eyes. "Daisuke, what happened?" the ex-assassin asked worriedly, lightly gripping the brunette's shoulders so as to not hurt the one that was most likely injured.

"Ken… You're not… caught up in anything bad… are you?" he asked, hair hiding his eyes from view. Silent tears left tracks down his cheeks, the only sign that the events of the previous day had hurt him more than physically.

"Look, I…" Ken started, trailing off when he found himself unsure of how to answer.

"Ken, please don't lie to me," Daisuke said pleadingly, eyes still downcast.

Hanging his own head, Ken let his hands fall to his sides. "I was born into something bad," he said finally. "I was retrieved from that life by the police at the age of nine, but I had already been given several vital pieces of information. Daisuke, who did this to you?"

His sigh sounded like one of relief, but it still tore at Ken's newly healed heart. "I didn't see their faces. There were three of them. They told me to give you this," he said, holding out his hand, palm up, with the crumpling piece of paper in it. As Ken reached out to take it, Daisuke's head shot up, catching him firmly in the eyes. "Just tell me… promise me you aren't a part of it."

Unable to retain eye contact, Ken solemnly looked away. "I don't want to be," he said after a moment. Carefully opening the damaged paper, his expression turned grim and heated as he apparently read what the jumble of symbols emant. "And I will find a way to fix this, I promise. Until then, you should stay at home. The others, too. They won't come after me personally, but instead will target those I care about." Turning, Ken took a couple steps before he stopped, looking back over his shoulder with a pained look on his face. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but please, just do this."

Giving a slight nod, Daisuke turned and started off down the hallway at a slight jog.

Crushing the piece of paper in a fist, Ken's gaze turned from hurt to seriously pissed, the walls seeming to glow from the heat of his anger. "You made a mistake, Ace. Had you only left me alone, I'd have kept my mouth shut. But you drug Daisuke into something he was not involved in. Now, you will pay." Pulling out his cell, the enraged teen calmly called the police station. "Yeah, Takashi. Come pick me up. We're going to the chief."

* * *

Ken waited until all those required were in attendance. The chief, a burly man with a short beard and mustache, was starting to get agitated by this time. "You called us here, kid, and said it was urgent, now what is the problem so we can get back to work?" he half-yelled, never having cared much for the assassin's kid in the first place.

Nonchalantly, Ken tossed the note he received from Daisuke on the table, open so all the gathered officers could see it. Diligently with skill far beyond his years, Ken watched everyone's reaction to it, and almost smirked when he spotted the person he was looking for. It was not time, though. He couldn't jump the gun.

"What is this, kid?" the chief asked, voice low.

"A note," Ken said simply. "It was kindly delivered to me by my friend, who Ace had seen fit to have bloodied up a bit first." Everyone froze, silence deafening the room.

Ace. It was the name of the leader of the Ace's Assassin Guild. Although, Ace was only a cover, a false name used by every leader since it's founding, with only the original truly having that name. Very few knew the current leader's true name, or even the past leaders.

"Ace, you say?" the chief asked.

"Yeah. But the bastard made a mistake," Ken stated, a devilish smirk touching his lips. "He should have just left me alone. I was planning on sealing my lips and never releasing the information I had. So long as I remained quiet, they'd leave me alone. I guess they got scared. It basically says I either have to off myself, or go to them so they can do it for me."

Several gasps were heard from the group, but it was the chief, again, who spoke up. "Why don't they just do you in here, like they have done to so many others we have captured?"

"Because they can't," Ken cockily replied. "You see, I'm too diligent for them to sneak up on. As a child they called me a prodigy. They also said that, most likely, I would be the next Ace." Takashi stared at him with the most fearful look, a look shared by most in attendance. "That is why they kept me alive when they did have the chance to kill me, when you had me locked in a cell and chained. They didn't want to lose someone as valuable as me, but they lost their chance. Now, not even if Ace himself begs at my feet will I spare them."

A serious gleam in his eye, the chief reiterated his original question, "Why are we here, Ken?"

"Because I'm going to give you the location of the Ace's Assassin Guild," he replied, an almost maniacal chuckle accompanying it.

"Then give us the-" the chief started, but was cut off as Ken held up a finger.

"There are some conditions to this agreement," he said. When no protest other than a grumble was offered, he continued. "First, everyone that I have had immediate contact with will need to be protected Police guards at the Ishida, Takenouchi, Tachikawa, Kamiya, Izumi, Kido, Takaishi, Motomiya, Inoue, and Hida residences. They will be the assassin's targets and I want them protected."

"That can be done," the chief said, about to raise his hand and call someone to his side to arrange it when Ken shook his head.

"I'm not done," Ken said. "Second, I will choose who goes. You bring me the men you believe to be the best for the job and I will decide, understand?" He got a curt nod. "Third, give me a gun," he commanded, hand outstretched across the table they were gathered around.

"What, that's preposterous!" the chief yelled, standing so swiftly he knocked his chair down. "You just expect me to hand an assassin a weapon?"

"Chief," Takashi said, drawing the older man's glare to him. "If I may, I have watched over Ken for six years now. I… I don't think he will be any threat to us." The hefty man did not back down a bit. "Over the last month… Ken has changed to the point where I wouldn't even recognize him had I not witnessed the entire thing."

"And you would trust him with your life?" the man ground out, gripping the flat surface of the table until his knuckles turned white.

"I would trust him with all of ours," Takashi stated, back straight with perfect posture.

A moment of silence passed before the chief finally moved to his desk and opened a drawer, retrieving a pistol. Callously, he tossed it to Ken. "Here you go, and some extra bullets for you, too," he growled, sending a couple clips clanging onto the table.

Ken checked the chamber, shaking his head. "Throwing a loaded gun, you are brave," he said. "And thank you. Now the final rule is, if I shoot someone-" Ken whipped the gun around fast enough that it was hard to follow, aiming it directly at the wall before pulling the trigger "-you got yourself a mole." A man could be heard screaming on the other side of the wall, a couple members of the room rushing out to ascertain the wounded man.

"That's…" Takashi started, unable to finish his sentence.

"The man who was assigned as guard right after I was transferred to your station," Ken finished. "He was set to watch me. I suggest you keep everyone who was in this meeting in this room until the night we raid the hideout."

"Why?" the chief asked, stopping his men from leaving with the mole.

"How do you think he could have been transferred so quickly?" Ken asked. "Most likely, one or more of the people in this room is an assassin. Wouldn't want them informing the others, right?"

* * *

Ken took out several more undercover agents in the search for people to protect his friends, and even more as the raid parties were set up. Everyone involved was not allowed to make calls or have access to anyone on the outside, sending strings of tension through both those involved in the plan, and those left in the dark.

It was just after midnight, two days after the original meeting, when they finally set in on the building. He had planned it perfectly, jumping the members of the assassin guild during a monthly gather the moment before Ace was supposed to arrive. Not that Ace would. Ace had been kept cooped up with him and the other police, the ultimate mole in the police agency. And now, to avoid blowing cover, Ace had to help round up the remnants of the guild.

Many fought back and died on the cold, stone floor of the abandoned hospital, but none escaped.

Taking the few survivors back to be jailed, Ken got the worst surprise when they arrived at the station. Holding a bloody arm, a wounded officer quickly ran over to them. "I-I'm sorry," he gasped, a medical team quickly following him. "My partner, he… he's in the hospital right now. We failed. They jumped us, and took the kids with them," he said. "Taichi and Hikari… and Daisuke. He had gone over to see them… They got him too. I can tell you… where they said they'd go."

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Don't you just love cliff hangers? Well, that just means I will have to write the next chapter soon for you guys!


	13. Chapter 12: Kidnapped

I honestly thought this chapter would be longer than it is, but I had trouble just getting it to the 2000 words. There were also parts where I had difficulty stting the scene how I wanted it, so if there are some rocky parts that is why.

There will be one more full chapter, and I'm not entirely certain how long the Epilogue will be. It could be anywhere from 1000 words to over 2000, depending on how much content I can fit into the scenes.

I would like to thank all the people who have stayed with me throughout writing this. I love writing and my readers are my life (as corny as that sounds). I will be starting to write a novel soon, and I'm really excited for that. I have several lined up to do, all I need to do is start typing them out.

I hope you enjoy the next chapter of **The Assassin and the Clown**.

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

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**Chapter 12: Kidnapped**

The ambulance quickly rolled off with the injured officer, Ken looking on grimly at the incredibly void and destroyed house. These guys, three, by the officer's story, didn't care about being seen. Hell, maybe they wanted to. Now Ken was put in the position to set up another raid, those this time with a hostage situation and without the preemptive strike advantage of the first one. Brute force would not work, and the only solutions he was coming up with were not ones he wanted to use.

Ken realized he'd have to get involved in this fight.

"So what's the plan?" the chief asked, coming up behind the contemplating teen.

"Have things been cleaned up here?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at the older male. Receiving a nod in response, Ken continued, "Then we need to get the swat team to that warehouse, but remain outside. Getting too close could set them off, and then we'd have casualties I am not willing to sustain. I'll set things up once we get there." Not waiting for the chief's reply, the bluenette stood from his seat, weaving before the officers towards Kamiyas. "I promise you I'll bring them alive," he said, eyes extremely apologetic. "I don't think any amount of sorries can fix them, but I will say it anyway, I'm sorry."

"It's not like you did anything," Tai's mother said, still sniffling but no longer crying.

"They were targeted because of me," he admitted. "They are a way to attack me, since there wasn't a way to come at me personally. I have to go now, but I will bring them back alive," he reiterated, turning to leave. "Or I won't be coming back in anything but a body bag," he added, heading back through the mess of shattered glass and wall rubble to the police car.

The drive was not long and the raiding party arrived just minutes after they did. Men and women in police uniforms and bullet proof vests filed out of cars and vans, two score officers in all. A makeshift table was set up in the yard in front of the abandoned building, building blueprints the chief had set for quickly laid out on the flat surface. Looking over the designs for several seconds, Ken stated, "They will be holed up in here," indicating a large, open area towards the front. "It's open, with little hindrance for either party. It will allow us a good view of the hostages, while the captors will have a great shot at them from almost anywhere."

"You're making it seem like an impossible task," the chief grumbled irately.

Ken just shook his head, pointing to the backdoor to the warehouse. "You guys will be going in through here. I will take one person with me through the front," he stated, all but ignoring the chief.

"And you think that'll be enough to overtake them?" the older male growled.

"I could do this with my eyes closed," Ken replied. "Alone. There is a reason I was to be the next Ace, and I guess I'll be able to show you now. Okay, Takashi, I want you to take the assault team around back. Wait for my signal to enter, and then rush the scene. Be on guard, but I will most likely have incapacitated the enemy by then. Chief, I'd like you to go with the raid team. Yuma, you'll come with me; I might need some backup."

"Understood," she said, looking around circle to the others gathered. Takashi gave his nod of approval, and the chief grumbled something that sounded like "okay."

Grabbing a pencil, Ken started making several marks directly onto the blueprint, explaining them as they were made. Takashi would take the men around back, stationed on either side of the door. Once inside, they would split up into three groups. The bulk of them would head straight ahead, charging into the room directly behind where the men would be holed up. A couple people would to the right and up onto the scaffolding, being careful to make sure the old structure could hold their weight first. If there was a secondary ambush set up, having people on the high ground would be optional. The third group, also only a few people, would head left to the wall that had corroded from the outside, digging in and preventing any potential reinforcements from entering through it. The chances there were more was so slim Ken wasn't worried about it.

Minutes later they set off, getting almost around the corner when Ken yelled for Takashi to wait. Running after the older man, they exchanged a few words before the teenager ran back. "What was that about?" Yuma asked, falling in behind Ken as they approached the entrance.

"I must be slipping," he admitted, shaking his head as if disgusted with himself. "I forget to tell him what the signal was. I just had to tell him before we went in. Now, I want you to stay back about three meters, don't come into the room until I have cleared it, and then I want you to watch the assassins. Incase they recover, shoot them in the leg or something."

"Of course," the girl said easily, hanging back easily like she'd been told.

Focusing on the task ahead, Ken stepped into the pitch black corridor. Drawing his gun from the holster, he stopped halfway down it to catch his breath. He didn't want to do this, but what choice did he have? It was either expose the truth or let them die, and he liked the latter even less. Taking in several deep breaths, he continued forward without any noise, listening intently to the noise ahead of him. There was a shifting to the left; that would be one of the men. The small amount of light from the moon illuminated the second assassin and his captured friends in the middle of the room. Now where were the-sneeze! The third person was to the right, positioned in the corner. Still concealed in the shadows, he peered into the room.

It sounded more like one shot, but to the trained ear there were clearly two. The two simultaneous screams were also a good indicator. Both of the guards dropped their guns, holding their shattered hands. The third man, standing behind Daisuke with a gun pointed towards the ceiling, completely froze, watching is fear and awe as Ken appeared from the darkness, still smoking gun barrel pointed directly at his heart.

"D-don't take another step," he stuttered, an empty threat.

"Or what?" Ken asked, voice icy cold. Daisuke, who was about to holler, suddenly froze. "Are you going to shoot him? Go ahead, try it. I can guarantee you won't be able to. By the time you get your gun halfway to his head I'll plug holes in you."

None of the teenagers knew what to make of the situation. Ken, who they had seen at his best, now had the perfect stance of a seasoned killer, down to the tone and expression. Every step was calculated, and Taichi had no doubt that the whining and sniveling in the corners of the room was caused by the teenager slowly approaching them.

Their captor panicked, trying to train his gun on the smaller brunette. As Ken had promised, he didn't get the barrel halfway to Daisuke's head before the weapon was shot from his hand, crushing two fingers in the process. Pissed that the guy had even thought of hurting _his_ Daisuke, the bluenette put a bullet in the assassin's leg as well.

Ken dropped his gun as he ran towards his friends, cold, assassin exterior melting away into concern. Kneeling behind them, nimble hands started working on the ropes binding Daisuke's wrists, deftly undoing the tight knots.

"You should have kept your gun," a voice echoed in the room, bringing four sets of eyes to the speaker. Daisuke was the only one who recognized the figure; after all, Daisuke was the only person Ken ever brought home. Standing where Ken had been not a moment before, stance a little cockier and confident, was Yuma. The angle of her gun could easily be tracked to Ken's forehead, right between the eyes. "I guess you were right, you _are_ slipping, Kaizer," she mocked, but stopped and gave him a thoughtful look. "No, you don't _deserve_ that title anymore."

"Ken, what is she talking about?" Daisuke asked, craning his neck to see the male behind him. Ken couldn't meet his eyes, couldn't see the tears and terror reflected in those chocolate pools, unless he wanted to mess this up. "This is what you were a part of?" Shock, disappointment, disgust; those were the elements hidden in the soccer star's voice.

"I don't have time to explain right now," he strangled out, trying to keep the grief from his voice. _You knew this was going to happen_, his mind scolded, berating him his weakness. "I have to find a way to get us out of this."

"There isn't a way out," she said simply, no longer smiling or joking around. "It is such a waste to get rid of you, but I'm afraid you can no longer be of use to us. Goodbye, Ken."

A loud bang echoed trough the barren hall.

For several seconds, nobody moved. The air was heavy to the lung and gravity seemed to crush what little was left in them out of the vital organs. Then, Yuma coughed, spraying blood a good foot in front of her. Her hand wavered, slowly falling until the gun pointed to the ground.

"You're slipping, Ace," Ken stated. The woman's mouth moved in jerky movements, opening and closing as if trying to speak. Red liquid dribbled from the corner of her mouth, more leaking through the wound in her chest.

Gurgling on the blood in her throat, she finally managed to say, "How?"

"You slipped up," the teenager stated. "You underestimated me. I knew that with my potential Ace wouldn't leave my surveillance to anyone else. As such, they would come and watch over me themselves. That meant it was either you or Takashi. And you messed up. At the meeting, you weren't concerned over the message I placed on the table. Why did you look away from it? Because you knew you would start to read it if you looked, so you figured it would be best to just avoid looking at it all together. Takashi, on the other hand, was thoroughly confused.

"Thinking you were in the clear, you let your guard down a bit too much. You didn't even notice I switched your vest. That one is not bullet proof." Giving him an ironic smile, Yuma's knees collapsed. There behind her, gun held shakily in both hands, was Takashi. It wasn't just his hands, his entire body shook, system going into shock. "You even believed me when I told you I was telling him the signal."

_"Takashi, listen carefully," Ken said, grabbing the older man's shoulder. "Once you get the men in position, tell them to wait thirty minutes before they head in, then I want you to return to the front. Sneak in through the front door, and whatever you do, _don't be seen_. Not even by Yuma, understand?"_

_"Yeah," the officer replied, turning back to his group.  
"And have your gun ready," Ken added, departing himself._

"Daisuke, you're bleeding!" Hikari suddenly screamed, drawing the violet-eyed teen's attention to the still-bound athlete.

Almost instantly, his heart fell into his stomach. The stain on Daisuke's shirt was growing by the second, leaving a sick taste in Ken's throat. It appeared that Yuma… Yamura… Ace… whatever she called herself, was not about to die without some kind of lasting effect.

She had shot Daisuke.

Forcing the brunette to his back, Ken immediately put pressure on the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. "Takashi, go get an ambulance!" he yelled over his shoulder. No response. "Takashi!" Still nothing. Peering behind him, Ken was greeted by a sight he wasn't too thrilled with. The officer had collapsed as well, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, overwhelmed by the events. He had shot Yuma. He had _loved_ Yuma. He had shot the woman he had fallen for. Ken could feel for him, but without prompt action they could lose another life. "Takashi!" Ken yelled again, right as the backdoor burst in the raiding party stormed the room. "Untie them," the teen commanded. "And get a medic team in here! Daisuke's been shot!"

* * *

Wow, I _just_ realized there are no line breaks in this chapter. I'm smart...


	14. Chapter 13: The Ocean

I really meant to get this up sooner (my usual excuse, sorry), but I was kind of... distracted. First of all, I have over 38k words on the book I'm writing (which is close to 3/4th the length of this story) and then Christmas came up and I got quite a few games, so I haven't been writing much...

This is the last chapter (except the Epilogue, which I will try to get up tonight or tomorrow because I am anticipating it being between 1000 and 2000 words) for this fanfiction. I am happy that I am finally finishing this (for the sake of finishing them, not because I don't like this one because I really do like it). Because this is the (second to) last chapter the action is really starting to go down now. Hope everyone enjoys the happy ending! Enjoy!

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

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**Chapter 13: The Ocean**

"Are you planning on wearing a trail in the tile?" a voice asked, slightly hollow and shaky and sick-sounding. A cascade of unspoken emotions flooded from those few words, completely portraying the disheveled thoughts jumbled in the officer's head. He was hurting, relieved, physically ill, dead, alive, exhausted, buzzed with adrenaline, ragged, and distressed, yet calm. Part of him just wanted to lie down and not wake up while the other wanted to work long enough that he would fall asleep too tired to dream. His fatherly emotions wanted to help the troubled teenager, but his selfish side wanted to snap and yell at Ken for putting him through that, to scream that the "pain" the teenager was going through was nothing compared to his "pain."

"Mayhap," the bluenette replied, continuing his pacing without removing his eyes from the closed door. The shades were drawn, but turned so that the events inside could be seen. Two forms sat in chairs next to the bed, chatting with each other and routinely sending glances to the sleeping brunette in the bed. Luck had been on his side, the bullet missing any major blood vessels, though it did break part of his shoulder blade; the arm would take a while to recover, and the bullet had to be removed.

"You're not going to go in and see how he's doing?" Takashi asked, sounding a lot older than he actually was. The rush, despite the whole event having taken place a couple hours before, was just starting to seep from his body, the true extend of his exhaustion becoming evident. The chief was already talking about him a week off from work, at the least; paid.

Coming to a stop, he finally tore his gaze from the door, those violet pools turning to drown the officer in their depths. "How? How am I supposed to set foot in that room?" the teenager asked, a consuming sorrow in the calm waters. "I… caused this. It's my fault he was shot. Besides, I already asked a nurse about his condition. He's stable."

Resting a now-frail-looking hand on Ken's shoulder, Takashi gently shoved the fifteen-year-old towards the door. "Just go in and see him," he commanded weakly. "If for no other reason, because it's your duty as a friend."

Chuckling without humor, the bluenette slowly obeyed, taking dragging steps towards the door. His hand rested on the doorknob for a moment, dreading the moment he would open it and have to face the scorn of his companions. The thought of Daisuke's rejection was particularly painful, tearing at his heart and threatening to drag it back into the dark depth he just climbed out of. After all, just hours before the teen had looked at him with disgust.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and pushed, flinching as the door gave a cliché creak as it opened, drawing attention to the entering teenager. Closing the door behind himself, Ken silently glided forward, stopping a foot from the foot of the bed and staring down at Daisuke's serene face.

"They said he will wake up any time," Hikari stated, casually standing up. "Just have to wait for the anesthesia to wear off." The boy's only acknowledgement was the slight nodding of his head. Walking almost as quietly as Ken had, the girl stopped once she was next to the obviously troubled teen. Reaching out and touching his arm, she jerked back when he flinched, startled by the unexpected movement. "I saw you pacing outside the door. Why's it take so long for you to come in?" she asked.

"I did not know if I should have of not," he replied, releasing a sigh. "I could not act as if I had no part in it because it was your association with me that led to your kidnapping." Looking from the girl to his best friend still lying in the hospital bed, he added, "I think I should be going now."

A tanned hand grabbed his shoulder and stopped him mid-turn. "I think you should be here when he wakes," Taichi corrected, half-steering, half-dragging the younger boy backwards and plopping him in the third chair set up between him and his sister. "Let Daisuke dismiss you if he wants you to go," the older soccer player said, grinning like the idiot he was.

Smiling despite the situation, Ken hung his head defeatedly and waited patiently, hands folded in his lap and peeking out from under his bangs when the door opened. Yamato and Takeru were the next to arrive, the two rushing to their respective partners. The two brunettes quickly summarized what had happened, the younger blonde momentarily glaring daggers at the bluenette. His anger was short-lived, though, the boy calming down once he took a few deep breaths. Most of it went unnoticed to Ken, whose main focus was the injured teenager. The other members of their group showed up within the next half-hour, the short version of what happened being retold over and over again to inform the new arrivals. It hurt his ears more and more each time, a continual reminder of the difference between the worlds they were raised in. Iori was the only one who seemed to hold him in any contempt for what had happened. Though the quiet boy didn't voice his objections Ken could feel them assaulting him.

A low moaning drew eleven pairs of eyes towards the bed, Ken inwardly chuckling at the analogy his mind made to a pack of hyenas looking on at their injured prey. Now if only their eyes could glow…

"Ken?" was the first thing out of the brunette's mouth, mahogany orbs focusing on the unassuming boy. The dim light casted enough shadows to hide the bluenette's blush at Daisuke's delighted smile. "Ken, I was afraid you wouldn't be here. I figured you'd have slinked off somewhere before I woke."

"He tried to," Hikari replied, giggling slightly at the annoyed look that passed over the other brunette's face.

"I do not belong here," Ken started, trying to find a way to get his point across. "Or have you all forgotten in the last few minutes that I was raised an assassin? I am the Kaizer, the prodigy meant to take over as the next Ace."

"But you said so yourself, didn't you?" Daisuke asked, hissing in pain as he tried to sit up straighter. "You don't want to be."

"At one point I did," he truthfully replied. "Then I learned what it meant to be human, but I will _always_ have that killer inside me. The things I was taught as a child will never go away. I will always know how to shoot a gun, I will always have that cold, calculating side, and I will always be indifferent to death."

"You cared about us, though," the girl said. "You feared for Daisuke's life."

"Don't worry about it," the idiotic teenager said before Ken could come up with a reply. "You got rid of them, right? So it doesn't matter." Daisuke gently took on of Ken's hands in his, stretching as far as he possibly could to obtain his prize and not letting go. To prevent the blockhead from injuring himself farther, Ken scooted to the edge of his seat, closer to the bed. "Right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ken agreed, his tone indicating he would be carrying this around for a while to come.

Clearing her throat, Hikari stood and mischievously bounced over to the bed, whispering something into the hospitalized boy's ear. He seemed to perk up at whatever it was, and for a moment Ken feared what it might be. "Hikari said they all usually go to her grandparents' beach house for a month in the summer," Daisuke said. "Since this is the first year we've actually been friends with them we didn't really know. She wanted me to ask you to come too, since you normally decline when someone else asks."

Chewing on his lip for a moment, the bluenette looked down, trying to decide his answer.

* * *

"You sure you have everything packed?" An overly worried Takashi asked, scouring the barren room for whatever might have been missed.

"Yes, I have everything," Ken grumbled for the seventh time. This had to be worse than when he moved out of his cell and into an apartment with the police officer.

"You have a weeks worth of clothing?" he asked.

"Yes," the teenager replied, heaving a bag over his shoulder.

"Don't forget to wash them," Takashi reminded, lifting another from the floor.

"I know," Ken mechanically replied. They had, after all, done this at least twice the night before, and four times that morning.

"Swim trunks? Sunscreen? Clean underwear?" the adult inquired, leading the way down the stairs.

"Yes, yes, and no; I plan to go commando," Ken answered, shaking his head at the shocked look the uniform sent him. "I was being sarcastic. Yes, I have fresh underwear."

"Good," Takashi said dominantly, continuing to the caravan of vehicles that would bring the twelve children for the next twenty-four days. "And stay out of the girls' rooms!"

"Why the hell would I want to go in one of those hell-holes?" the boy asked, seeming genuinely afraid of them for some reason. Chuckles could be heard from inside the van, so someone must have known what Ken was talking about. Takashi didn't, though, so he gave the boy another inquiring look. "Last time I was left alone with them, because Daisuke, Takeru, and Iori went to buy some more snacks, Jyou and Koushirou had too much homework to make it, and Taichi and Yamato were off, uh, somewhere (most likely having sex, he added to himself), I got stuck playing dress-up. I will not tell you what happened, but know I have no intention of repeating it."

"Alright, I won't ask," Takashi assured, closing the truck and clasping the teenager on the arm in acknowledgement before letting him run towards the car he would be travel in.

"See you in a month!" he yelled back, clamoring in next to his best friend.

"Have fun," the officer said back, more to himself than the teenager; it was too quiet for Ken to have heard him anyway. He was left standing there on the sidewalk as the cars drove off.

The drive, though it was eight hours long and required a pit stop or two, went by quickly for the friends. Most of them could barely contain their excitement, once they got there, long enough to toss their bags into the house. Taichi was already stripping into his swim trucks, which he conveniently had worn under his clothes, as it appeared Daisuke had, too. A slower moving Yamato walked over to Ken, splashing some cold gel onto the boy's back.

"Hey, what are you doing?" the teenager jumped, shocked by the sudden coolness.

"Putting sunscreen on you," the blonde replied showing him the bottle he'd taken from Ken's bag while the bluenette was slowly removing his shirt. "Your skin is so pale that you will do nothing but burn without it; trust me, I know."

"Thanks," Ken replied, rummaging through the contents of his bag until he spotted his own trunks. "I'll be right back." Changing in the bathroom, he came back out to finish putting on the protective liquid, helping Yamato with his back since it wasn't the easiest place to reach. The blonde was then quickly lured into a game of volleyball, Ken respectfully declining and standing off to the side.

Hikari hit the ball wrong on accident, sending it flying way too far and high, Daisuke calling that he would go get it as it rolled in the sand and rested at Ken's feet. Feeling unusually playful, he kicked the ball away right as the brunette reached down to pick it up, smiling down innocently. That made Daisuke retaliate by tackling him to the sand, the others (including other beachgoers that they didn't know) gathering around them, momentarily forgetting about the game. Tan hands ruthlessly tickled pale sides, the unfortunate bluenette desperately trying to wriggle free of his best friend's grasp. Cheers and hollers for both sides sounded for a few minutes, the commotion dying down once Daisuke realized Ken was having trouble breathing. "That's what you get for kicking the ball away," he said, acting all high-and-mighty.

"Okay, I'll remember that," Ken replied mockingly, humoring the playful teenager.

They laid there for another moment, continuing to catch their breaths. Most of the onlookers moved on, the entertainment from the situation gone. Grinning down at the violet-eyed teen, Daisuke was about to get up when he stopped. Ken was about to ask what was wrong when he realized the brunette's face was getting closer. Their lips touched gingerly at first, as if Daisuke was testing the waters. Heat rose to Ken's face, and when he didn't push the other boy away the soccer star put a bit more force behind the kiss. Acting on instinct, Ken responded, reaching up behind Daisuke's head and opening his mouth when the other teenager's tongue grazed his lower lip.

"Mommy, what are they doing?" a young voice asked.

"Just ignore them and keep walking," a woman, most likely the child's mother, replied. The noise startled them, breaking the kiss and the moment it had created.

"Come on, you two lovebirds!" Taichi yelled, deepening their embarrassment. "We need to finish this game then head back. We all have a good deal of unpacking to do!" He turned then, saying something to Hikari that Daisuke couldn't hear. Ken read their lips, though, and felt his face heat up a bit more.

_I told you we'd only need one extra room._

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As I said a the top, there will be an Epilogue for this. I will try to get it up in the next couple days (I meant to have this finished by Christmas as a present for you guys, but failed...). I hope you will enjoy the conclusion of this fanfiction!


	15. Epilogue: Misunderstanding?

I would like to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, and supported me throughout the time I was writing this. It is that support which has gotten me into wanting to use my writing as a career. Had I never started posting my work on Fanfiction . net I probably would not have considered using my skill in writing as a way of living. For that, I thank all of you.

I hope everyone enjoys the final installment of **The Assassin and the Clown**.

**I do not own Digimon :'(**

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**Epilogue: Misunderstanding?**

_It had been a long time since he stood in that room. It was different now; no more scaffolding stood broken against the wall, the statue no longer stood in the center of the room, the piles of stone had vanished. What had once been a holding chamber was now an empty, cylindrical room. Had he not seen it before the other Daisuke cleaned it up he would have scoffed at anyone who tried to tell him a giant statue once stood in the center._

"_It is good to see you again," the brunette said, leaning against the large broom he'd used to sweep out the chamber._

"_It looks nothing like it used to," Ken replied, turning to face his friend._

"_You look nothing like you used to," Daisuke said, stretching his sore muscles._

"_What are you going to do now?" the violet-eyed teenager asked as the other boy went to replace the broom in the closet that hadn't been there before._

_The dream Daisuke stopped for a moment, eyes down and almost saddened as if lost in thought. "I don't know," he said after a moment. "Maybe I'll return to wear I came from."_

"_And where is that?" Ken inquired, tilting his head to the side slightly._

"_I don't know," dream Daisuke chuckled, facing the other male with a goofy grin on his face. "Maybe it's somewhere up there," he started, looking up through the now-nonexistent roof to the stars overhead. "Or maybe it's somewhere in here," he added, walking over and placing a hand on Ken's heart. "I won't know until I get there."_

_A faint noise echoed through the room, both boys turning to find the source. It was coming from behind them._

"_He's calling you," the brunette said. "You should go. This is no longer a place for you."_

"_Yeah," Ken agreed, clapping the brunette on the shoulder before turning to leave. "And good luck to you!"_

_Waving, the dream Daisuke watched as Ken exited through the wooden door._

* * *

They were just walking down the hall, talking and trying to ignore the ever-watchfulness of their siblings, when they heard the voices coming from Daisuke and Ken's room.

"A-are you sure about this?" a nervous Ken asked.

"Yeah, come on," Daisuke replied, sounding quite enthusiastic about… whatever they were about to do. Of course, Hikari and Takeru couldn't see because the door was closed, but they had a pretty good idea about what was going on.

"I'm not too sure about this," the bluenette said, followed by the sound of shuffling across the sheets.

"It will be okay, Ken, now come back here," Daisuke cooed.

"It's going to hurt, isn't it?" the other boy asked.

"Just a little bit, and it'll be sore for a little while afterwards, but that will pass if you leave it in," came the response. "You'll be fine."

"That's not the point, Daisuke," Ken said, sheets ruffling to indicate he was either slinking towards the brunette, or the brunette towards him. "I don't enjoy pain, Daisuke, I'm not a masochist."

"I never said you were," the older boy replied. Three people were leaning against the door now, eager to eavesdrop in on what was happening to tease the two later. Yamato, though, was rolling his eyes sarcastically at them and leaning against the wall, debating whether to pull out a cigarette or not.

A quiet _chick!_ sound was heard, possibly a snap being undone, followed by a hiss of pain or embarrassment. The sheets were sliding passed each other in the sounds of a struggle, or just a good deal of movement, followed by a yelp from Ken. "Ow, Daisuke, that hurts," the ex-assassin complained. "Pull it out."

"Don't be such a baby, Ken, it's already halfway in," the brunette said, sounding kind of winded.

"I don't care, pull it out," he reiterated. Hikari could not help but giggle a little, unknowingly drawing the two boys' attention. The noise abruptly stopped, the three eavesdroppers waiting for what would happen next, then the door gave way and they fell inside.

"What are you doing?" a fully dressed Daisuke asked, ignoring the glares a fully dressed Ken was sending his way.

The three looked confusedly between the two, curious how they could have dressed so quickly. "Wait, what were you two doing?" Taichi asked, getting up of his little sister. Daisuke's response was to hold up the earring he had been trying to push through the new hole in Ken's ear. Taichi's chocolate eyes lit up at the idea.

"Don't even think about it, Taichi," the blonde said immediately, not liking the chill that ran down his spine. "Besides, that's something that was used in the seventies."

"That's what I've been trying to tell Daisuke," Ken stated, wincing as he touched a sensitive spot on his ear. "But he insisted, so it was hard to refuse."

"I know what you mean," Yamato said, sighing when he realized Taichi would most likely convince him to get his right ear pierced as well. "Now we should all be going; it is our last day here. See you two at the beach," he said, picking up his brother and boyfriend's sister. Walking down the hallway, he sent one last glance over his shoulder, whistling and saying "come on, boy" to his boyfriend. The older brunette quickly bounded off with them.

Closing the door and shaking his head, Daisuke went back to inserting the small stone into Ken's ear. Flinching several times, the bluenette finally just sat back and let his boyfriend have his way. "What did they think we were doing?" he asked after a moment.

"Most likely having sex," Daisuke replied, stepping back to admire his work.

Thinking for a second, Ken shifted his weight and hissed in pain before asking, "Why would we be doing that now, we had sex last night."

"They don't need to know that," the brunette said quickly, placing a finger over his mouth.

Shaking his head slightly, Ken leaned forward and grabbed his lover's arm, pulling the boy back and giving him an affectionate kiss. Wincing again as he stood, the ex-assassin headed for the door. "Come on, they're waiting for us."

"Yeah!" Daisuke cheered, running to catch up.

* * *

On a side note, Yamato heard them having sex the night before so he knew that's not what they were doing then.


End file.
